


Our Lessons Come From the Journey

by tcs1121



Series: Twists and Turns 'Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcs1121/pseuds/tcs1121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> 3 ½ years after Twists and Turns. (6 ½ years post initial softball injury)</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Egypt, Jen. They want me to take a team to <i>Egypt</i>."  Jared smiled so hard the kitchen lights had a hard time keeping up. "A year's not very long, right?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Lessons Come From the Journey

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:**[kkgee](http://kkgee.livejournal.com/) My number one girl. Thanks to her for everything forever.
> 
> **Special Thanks** to [spn_J2fan](http://spn-j2fan.livejournal.com/) who was kind enough to go over certain aspects of this story, of which she is intimately knowledgable. Profound thanks, my dear.
> 
> **A/N:** This is the fourth and final installment to the [Twists and Turns 'Verse](http://tcs1121.livejournal.com/14303.html#cutid1), but don't worry, the boys are alive and happy at the end. You would need to read the other three: [Twists and Turns](http://tcs1121.livejournal.com/10057.html#cutid1),[ And No Two Directions Are Ever the Same](http://tcs1121.livejournal.com/11719.html), and [ A Paradox](http://tcs1121.livejournal.com/13423.html), to fully make sense of this story. And I hope you will.
> 
> ~~*~~*~~
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Taking liberties with reality for the sake of fiction. Untrue story. Untrue people. No harm intended. No money changes hands.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/tcs1121/pic/0000fr9x/)

_The road of life twists and turns  
and no two directions are ever the same.  
Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination._  
~~~  
Don Williams Jr.

~~~

Our Lessons Come From the Journey

~~*~~*~~  
Part One  
~~*~~*~~

The look on Jared's face was clear. They'd made him an offer he couldn't refuse. 

"The _State_ Department, Jen." Jared waved the contents of a large official envelope in the air. "The State _Department_."

" _The_ State Department," Jensen said, smiling.

"I know. I know! How fucking amazingly cool is that?" Jared's eyes were shining as he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. "The answer is: Fucking amazingly cool."

"Absolutely cool, indeed, Indiana." Jensen gave a gentle nod, knowing that was all the confirmation Jared needed. 

Jared raised his arms and whooped. He spun around and shuffled across the kitchen tiles backwards in his familiar version of a moonwalk. When his back hit the refrigerator, he made a fist and punched into the air. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Jensen laughed as several dog toys fell off the top of the fridge with the force of Jared's blows.

"Jensen, babe, this is the dream of a lifetime—of _any_ researcher's lifetime. This is the reason we became archeologists, and now the _State_ Department of the United States of _America_ is offering me the opportunity to realize that dream."

"I'm proud of you, Jay." Jensen beamed. "It is absolutely awesome. No question."

"You'll come with me, right? To the State Department, I mean. The Secretary of State wants to meet with me, and I want her to meet you. That's okay, right?" Now Jared was bouncing around the granite kitchen island/breakfast bar. 

"Slow down, man, catch your breath," Jensen waved him to sit in the stool next to him. 

Jared sat and slowed his words. "You'll come with me to the State Department, right?" 

"I'm not sure I was invited, but, no, you don't need me there. Find out the details, ask your questions, and then tell the Secretary of State your answer." Jensen ruffled Jared's hair. "You already know what it is."

Jared smiled so hard the kitchen lights had a hard time keeping up. "Egypt, Jen. They want me to take a team to Egypt."

"A new discovery in the desert, and they want you to bag and tag it."

"Pinch me." Jared jutted his right hip.

"Maybe later," Jensen laughed. 

"It's more than that, though. They want me to co-head this dig with Cairo University and Egypt's Ministry of State for Antiquities, _and_ to be a kind of a good will ambassador for the U.S." Jared calmed his jittery knee-bouncing, but his smile still showed all his teeth. "Just when I think my life is perfect the way it is, _more_ perfect happens. How did I get so lucky?"

"You have incredible karma." Jensen stood and came up behind him. He wrapped an arm around Jared's chest and spoke softly into his ear, "You are an incredible research archeologist, a respected professor, and a gifted artist. You have an amazing mind and a great way with people. It's no wonder they want you to co-run this dig."

"Until I get all the details, I won't know what it all entails, but, Jen…" Jared's voice went suddenly soft. "Jensen, it's _Egypt_. The pharaohs, the pyramids, the history, the current political unrest. And the State Department wants me there in the middle of it."

"The Secretary of State's not stupid, Jay. Of course she wants you there." 

Jared turned his head and looked over his shoulder. "Are you for real?"

"Last time I checked."

Jared leaned up and Jensen leaned down, meeting in a soft kiss. "So, so perfect," Jared sighed. "Come to Egypt with me. I mean, at least come to visit."

"Jared." Jensen took a shaky breath. 

"See the pyramids along the Nile," Jared sang with a goofy grin. 

"Egypt is over a twelve hour flight," Jensen said.

"Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle." Jared stood and, careful of Jensen's right arm, wrapped his arms around him and began swaying. "Just remember, darling, all the while..."

Jensen continued, "Twelve hours on a plane, Jay. Not making any promises."

"…you belong to me." Jared continued humming while rocking gently side to side.

Jensen sighed, leaning in close. "Find out all the details and exactly what they want you to do. Honest, Jare, I will try. "

Jared's happiness was spellbinding. He held Jensen close, moving him across the kitchen floor and breathed, "I need to find a better word than 'perfect.'"

~~*~~*~~

A year to start, but it would probably end up closer to two. It was a big discovery.

Jensen didn't know how he was supposed to be happy about that. He knew he should be happy for Jared, but for himself, he was miserable.

"A year's not very long, right?" Jared asked. His eyes were hopeful, but his smile was strained.

"A year is a year," Jensen replied with his own smile stretching tight at the seams.

"It _is_ only a year, though, right, Jen?"

"Jared." Jensen knew this much. "You said it yourself; this is a dream come true—not only your dream, but the dream of every kid who has ever watched a "Mummy" movie." He continued, more confidently this time, "This is the imagined reality of anyone who has ever hoped to make that next big discovery, and it's being handed to you. I mean, Jesus, this is the adventure of a _lifetime_."

"It is, isn't it?" Jared's eyes went soft as he focused his gaze over Jensen's shoulder. Out towards Cairo, out to the desert sands, where Jared would be digging up the remains of a world that lay dormant for over two, maybe over three thousand years, and exposing them to the light of a twenty-first century day.

Jensen knew what he had to say. "Hey, this is bigger than anything you have ever done, or will ever be asked to do again. You're about to uncover ancient secrets, but not only that, you have been asked to promote world peace, world collaboration, and world involvement. It's a gift for all of us." Jensen paused, "This is bigger than anything."

"You are amazing," Jared whispered reverently.

"No, babe," Jensen replied. "You are."

"I can't believe it." Jared shook his head. "I just can't believe it."

How could Jensen's trepidation of being alone, no, of being without Jared, be more than what he saw in Jared's eyes right now? Besides, he'd done it before. Before meeting Jared, when he struggled with his new disability, before the pain was so well managed, he'd been on his own. He could do it again, even easier this time.

"But it's for a whole _year_." Jared took a breath. "Probably more."

"One year in a _lifetime_ , Jay. Plenty more where that came from."

"What if you need me?"

"The whole _world_ needs you." 

A look passed Jared's face. "But, you are my world."

"I'm a part of it," Jensen agreed. "And even _I_ need you to go."

"Please," Jared's eyes were pleading. "Please, pack up and come with me. Let me show you what I can do."

"I can't, Jay, you know I can't. But I'll be here, cheering you on. You just have to promise to come back when you're done."

Jared looked lost, but then he closed his eyes for several moments. Jensen saw a small smile, barely a twitch of Jared's lips before he said, "Under one condition."

"Really? A _condition_?" Jensen asked with a full-blown smile. "What would that be?"

"That you'll say, 'Yes.' When I ask."

Jensen saw a twinkle in Jared's eye.

"Say 'yes' to what?"

"Before I fly to Egypt for a year, give or take, I want to meet your folks. I want them to know my intentions are honorable, and I want to know the kind of in-laws I'm going to be getting when this state allows us to get married."

Jensen stared pointedly at Jared. "Do you need a paper bag to breathe into, because you're rambling incoherently."

"Okay, as a man of science and mathematics I will itemize for you:

"One, at the end of January, I will be heading to Egypt for twelve to twenty months on a historically epic dig of historically epic proportions. I was chosen, not only for my expertise in archeology, and for my ability to create critically acclaimed documentaries. But," Jared threw his head back dramatically, "for my stunning good looks."

"Nothing conceited about that," Jensen said.

"Actually, I prefer 'well developed ego.' Two," Jared continued. "I will be an unofficial, yet de facto representative of the United States and ambassador of good will promoting…well…good will, understanding and camaraderie between international institutions of higher learning. I'll be in charge of disseminating the knowledge gained from this new discovery, thereby adding to our _whole world_ history, all the while creating peace and joy among nations."

"God bless us, every one," Jensen said. "And your well developed ego."

" _Three_ ," Jared huffed. "I want to meet your parents. I want to become a member of your family and I want them to meet me before I leave.

"Four, I love you. I love you. I want to make our partnership legal, binding and eternal. I mean as soon as the state agrees to it. Or maybe go to another state that already agrees to legal eternal bindings. So—yeah."

"So, you're proposing marriage?"

"Well, yes." 

"Shit, if I had known that all I'd have to do to reel you in and bind your life to mine forever was let you go far, far away...?"

"It's a contradiction, I know." Jared nodded.

Jensen laughed and said, "You don't have to make any rash, life altering decisions because you're going away for a while. Meeting my folks would be pretty life altering enough, believe me."

"Jen," Jared sounded hurt. "It's going to be longer than 'a while,' and I'm serious about wanting to marry you."

"On the other hand," Jensen continued. "My parents need to meet the man I'm going to marry, and flying to Texas to introduce you would be good practice to see if I can handle a twelve hour flight to Egypt."

"Really? Don't fucking kid about this, Ackles." 

"I'm not kidding," Jensen said.

"I'm going to meet your parents?"

"Why do you sound as excited about that as you do about going to the desert to dig up old sarcophagus-es?" Jensen frowned. "Sarcophagi?"

"Sarcophagi with _coffins_ inside!" Jared cried. "And I _am_ excited." 

"You won't say that after meeting my mother."

"One, I meet Mom and Dad Ackles. Two, I go to Egypt, uncover pristine relics for the world to study. Three, affect world peace. Four, return to find that the state we live in finally realizes that love is love, and then we get _married_. Or, fifth, we go to some _other_ state that already believes that love is love and _then_ we get married."

"It almost sounds like you're making sense, but…no." Jensen interrupted him by patting Jared's head. "And when did you start itemizing?"

"So you will?"

"So I will what?" 

"You'll marry me when I get back from Egypt in any state that says it's legal?"

"Did you ever doubt it?"

Jared jumped up and down high-fiving imaginary onlookers and bounded over to Jensen. "I'll buy you the best ring and my mom will have the best reception at her house and I love you so fucking much and that's _after_ the Egyptian adventure." Jared caught his breath and looked lovingly at Jensen. "It's a dream. A perfect, awesome, perfect dream. Kiss me," he said.

"Okay." Jensen reached out one-armed and hugged Jared close. Jared's lips met his gently at first, but Jensen made the kiss more demanding by pressing his tongue into Jared's mouth as he held him close.

"You're amazing," Jared whispered. "My life is amazing. You make my life amazing. How did I ever get this lucky?" Jared kissed him again. "I love you, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Jensen bit down the bitter edge of sorrow at the thought of Jared leaving for so long. But, dear God, Jared was radiating happiness, and not only for Jensen, but for all things. Like Jared always did. 

Besides, he'd just asked Jensen to be with him for this lifetime—minus one year or so. There was only one thing to say.

"Me, too," Jensen replied, and then kissed Jared again. "I love you, too."

"Perfecter and perfecter," Jared said gathering Jensen into his arms, sealing his lips on Jensen's and stealing all the air from his lungs.

~~*~~*~~

Flight time to Dallas was a little under three hours. Jensen ached from the moment they handed off their boarding passes until they touched down at Dallas/Fort Worth International. Jared talked non-stop during the flight, but his vocal distraction didn't work against Jensen's discomfort. By the time the wheels touched down, Jensen was stiff, sweating and basically non-verbal.

"We're there now, Jen. It's over." Jared gripped Jensen's elbow. They were in first class, but Jared waited for all the other passengers to disembark before helping him stand. 

"See?" Jensen said forcing a smile. "I made it."

"Yeah, you did, babe. You did." Jared's smile was tense.

Before his current problems— even before the softball injury—Jensen had trouble flying. His stress level hit high marks even though he knew that flying was safer than driving, but he couldn't convince himself of that when taking off and landing. His ears always hurt upon descent, sometimes triggering severe headaches. 

Now, added to his preexisting difficulties, Jensen hurt when he was forced into small spaces for prolonged periods of time. He needed to move, stand, and work out the kinks every twenty minutes or so, like when studying at the library or attending long lectures. As a result, Jared and Jensen didn't go to the movies; they rented online and made their own popcorn at home. 

Even though the first class seating Jared insisted upon was roomier, there was no way Jensen could move around comfortably. The already cramped up joints in his bad right arm and shoulder were locked up to a painful degree. His right hip and lower back were no better off as they were screaming for relief.

It was ironic that everything he felt now, at this very moment, had nothing to do with Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy, but with nerves, ears, tight joints, forced immobility, and irrational fear. Jensen was a pathetic mess when faced with American Airlines.

Jared claimed that his life was perfect, but sometimes, Jensen's still sucked. For, not only was Jared leaving for over a year, but Jensen was going through all this just to see his mother.

What on Earth was he thinking?

"Jensen, do you need to take anything?"

Jared always tried to leave the medication decisions up to Jensen, but right now, with his arm and shoulder locked, his back a ball of pain, his ears burning from the inside because they hadn't popped, a massive tension headache and the fact that he had to pee so bad his bladder was seriously considering embarrassing alternatives, Jensen nodded and took a deep breath.

Jared shook several pills into his hand and offered them to Jensen.

"No, I don't need the heavy duties. Only need the regulars." Jensen tried his smile again and failed.

"Not the very bad pain?" Jared kept his tone light, but Jensen heard the underlying worry.

"No, no, I just need the regular strong stuff, and your thumbs kneading into my back when we get to the hotel." This time Jensen's smile was more believable, but it was too late. Neither he nor Jared believed that Jensen could make multiple twelve hour one-way flights.

"Okay, then." Jared took in a breath and replaced the heavy narcotics with Motrin 800 and a low dose Flexeril. Flagging one of the flight attendants as she gathered her bags to deplane, Jared asked for a cup of water.

After, Jensen stood and moved out into the tiny aisle. Jared reached into the overhead compartment and grabbed the two remaining duffels. 

Jensen turned to Jared. He knew it must have been the result of the discomfort of the flight, but he felt his eyes welling. "I'm sorry, Jay."

They both knew what he was apologizing for.

"Don't apologize. Never apologize for that."

"It could be better on the flight home," Jensen said sincerely.

"Not going to be a flight home." This time Jared's smile was genuine. 

"What?" 

"Road trip." Jared smiled, giving two thumbs up as he raised the handle of one of the duffels to roll and affixed the other duffel to his back like a back pack.

After they had fully disembarked, Jared carefully looped one arm around Jensen's shoulders. His body heat felt good against his aching arm.

"So, a road trip?" Jensen asked.

"Yep. I love me some time on the open highway with nothing but asphalt, diesel fumes and a hot cup of bad roadside coffee to keep me company. Oh—and you." Jared hugged Jensen close, closing his wide hand and long fingers around the handle his rolling duffel.

"You're too good to me." Jensen looked down, in case his eyes were leaking as a landing after effect.

Jared snickered. "You know that's not true."

They walked like that through the terminal down to the baggage claim area. 

Jared stood by the baggage carousel waiting for the buzzer to sound, signaling that their bags were about to unload. He was suddenly serious as he said, "Jensen, don't worry about flying to Egypt. We'll figure something out. I'll arrange time off to come home, I promise. We'll work through it."

Jensen let out a relieved breath. "I know. I know we will."

"And to, uh, well, to take some of the edge off that time apart thing," Jared handed Jensen an envelope. "Open it."

"What is this?"

Jared shrugged, looking at the unmoving conveyer belt.

"Is this from you?"

"Well, shit, Jensen, who just gave it to you, you dope?" 

Jensen sat in one of the uncomfortable benches by the baggage carousel and tore the envelope open with the combination of left fingers and teeth. A round object fell to the floor with a light, tinking, sound.

"Damn it all," Jensen whispered to himself.

Jensen watched it roll several feet until it spiraled to a stop. A little boy with red hair and blue overalls jumped up and chased it. 

He toddled over and held out his hand. "Hey mister, is this yours?" A flat silver band with polished horizontal grooves sparkled in the florescent lighting of the airport baggage claim area.

Jensen looked by the carousel, where Jared stood with two duffels and a large roller bag, staring back at Jensen. A light blush powdered Jared's cheeks, but the blazing smile on his face as he held up his right hand with a matching band spoke a million. Spoke a promise.

"Yes, thank you," Jensen smiled, taking the ring from the boy. 

Jensen twisted the silver band onto the third finger of his motionless right hand lying in the sling. "It's mine."

~~*~~*~~

Jared stood at the Avis car rental counter in deep discussion with the agent behind the desk. She smiled and nodded, frowned and nodded, and then punched another bit of information into the computer.

Jensen sat in one of the rental agency's chairs surrounded by their luggage, feeling pleasantly numb and a little hungry. 

"Ready to go?" Jared asked, jingling a set of keys in Jensen's face.

"If you are," Jensen said behind a yawn.

"You good now?" Jared asked, as he stooped and extended the arm to the large roller bag.

"I'm great now," Jensen took one of the duffels on rollers and dragged it behind as they headed toward the exit.

Jared had changed the rental from a sedan to a large SUV. 

"What's with the Chevy Tahoe?" Jensen climbed into the passenger's seat as Jared stowed their bags. 

"I liked the color. It's Blue Topaz. Cool, huh?" Jared fired the engine and stretched his arms. "It'll be more comfortable for when we drive home."

Jensen sighed. "I'm sorry about the plane thing. I've always had trouble flying. But I really think we should try flying back. It might be better now that I know what to expect. I could get the hang of it."

"Don't worry about the plane thing. You've been doing so well, and I don't want to jinx it." He knocked on the dashboard. "Besides, I like driving. Speaking of which, how do I get to where we're going?"

Jensen knew he was changing the subject. That was okay, they would have plenty of time to avoid talking about it. "We'll check into the hotel first, and I'll call the folks from there."

"Wait, we're not staying with them?"

"Nope. Believe me, you'll thank me." Jensen readjusted his arm and looked at the silver band on his thin finger.

"What prompted this?" Jensen asked, as Jared exited the airport.

"What? You mean this?" Jared held his hand out displaying his ring again.

"Well, yeah, but the whole thing? Proposal, parents, promise ring?"

"I like alliteration?"

"Jared," Jensen said.

"Okay," Jared said. "I knew right after I met you that I wanted us to be, you know, _us_. Since I'm going to be gone a long time I wanted to formally and officially be us to not _only_ us. Plus, if you promise yourself to me, and wear my ring, then you'd feel really guilty having sex with someone else when I'm a continent away devoting my life to the ancient history of the world. You might want to wear it on your left hand, though, in case your right hand swells. I don't mind if people think it's a wedding ring." 

"Does it sound like that in your head?" Jensen asked, slipping the ring off his right and maneuvering it onto his left ring finger.

"Okay, so, in summation, I didn't want you to forget that even though I was in Egypt, that you have sworn to be mine forever." Jared pressed the brake gently and pointed. "This the Hyatt we're staying in?" 

"Like I would forget that, and, yes we're staying at the Hyatt Regency."

Jared didn't take his eyes from the road as he said, "You _better_ not forget that."

~~*~~*~~

In their hotel room, Jared offered to help Jensen with his sling.

"No, it's okay, I'll use my pocket."

"You're hurting, babe. Let me stretch you out then help you with this." Jared held up Jensen's lightweight sling. 

"No, really, I took a hot shower and I'm feeling much better." Jensen sat on the edge of the bed and dried off. "Besides, my mother doesn't like it when I use the sling."

"She doesn't?" Jared looked at himself in the mirror. He finger combed his hair out of the way, and checked the backs of the little silver studs that lined his ear. "Why not?"

"Well, because mom is mom."

"What do you mean 'mom is mom?'"

Jensen sighed. "I guess it's time for a little background history." 

"Good, I like history." Jared went to his knees and crawled up on the bed. Jensen groaned in relief as Jared gently flexed Jensen's right shoulder, moving his arm up and down while nuzzling his neck.

"When my mom was in high school," Jensen closed his eyes as Jared kissed behind his ear. "You're making me lose my train of thought."

"Sorry." Jared kissed down Jensen's shoulder, and then stopped, concentrating on bending and straightening Jensen's stiff elbow. "Go on. Your mom in high school."

Jensen took in a breath and leaned into Jared's big, warm hands. "Well, my mom's originally from Brownsville, Texas, where it's pretty warm all year round, no real snow, ice, or cold."

"Yes." Jared's warm breath puffed against Jensen's right cheek as he gently moved his hands back up to Jensen's shoulder and rotated it. "And?"

"And," Jensen shivered. "When…uh…when she was a senior in high school, she and her girlfriends went on a trip to Maine to ski at Sugarloaf. 

"That's kind of cool. Right?" Jared grasped Jensen's arm and raised it out to the side. God, that felt good. Jared knew exactly how firmly to hold his arm and how far to take it. 

"Right?" Jared repeated. "Cool?"

"Well, it was, until she had a skiing accident. She always told us that she skied into a tree on the Green Circle slope, but she must have been on a more difficult run. One that had trees." Jensen closed his eyes and hummed in pleasure as Jared repeated the movement. "It doesn't matter since she cracked two lumbar vertebrae in the accident."

"God, Jen." Jared pulled back sharply, nearly dropping Jensen's arm. 

"No, it's okay. She recovered, but to this day, she still has pain. As her orthopedist said, 'Your back never forgets.' Believe me, he was right."

"Does she use a wheelchair?" Jared absently petted Jensen's arm, and then made small circles, continuing to range his shoulder.

Jensen laughed. "Are you kidding?" 

"I thought with a serious back injury and all," Jared blustered helplessly.

"I know. I'm sorry. No, no wheelchair." Jensen smiled his lopsided smile. "It's complicated. My family, I mean. We're complicated. We're not like your family." Jensen leaned back and kissed Jared's chin. "You guys are easy."

"Don't say that to my sister. She might demonstrate." Jared nipped gently at Jensen's lips before placing Jensen's right hand into his lap. "No two families are alike, babe. I know we Padalecki's are unique. Unique _and_ easy. That's us." 

"It's more than that, Jay," Jensen said. "It's difficult to explain."

Jared whispered, "Try me," and nibbled Jensen's right ear. 

Jensen bared his neck to allow Jared's mouth access to the entire area. "My whole childhood centered on my mother and her back pain." He indicated his own right shoulder. "Believe me, this can't hold a candle to that."

Jared looked up quizzically. "No way." 

"Way," Jensen nodded. He turned and faced Jared. "My mother and my father live in a different world from the rest of us—they live in their _own_ world. One that doesn't include us."

Jared leaned back onto his elbows. His eyes were smoky. "I've never known you to be cryptic or mysterious, but right now you have me baffled. And a little turned on." 

Jensen looked away.

"Jen, what?"

"You want to know what you're in for, right? With me, my parents and my family?" Jensen tossed the towel he was wearing and began dressing.

"Well, yeah, but whatever you're thinking, it can't be that bad." Jared climbed off the bed and reached for Jensen's shirt.

"There's a lot of baggage I never unloaded on you and I probably should have clued you in sooner, but I had no idea you actually wanted to marry me." He stood and zipped his jeans.

" _No_ idea?" Jared grinned, holding out Jensen's shirt so he could slip his left arm in first.

"Well, we can't get married where we live." Jensen buttoned up while Jared fixed the collar in the back. "I figured it would never come up."

" _Never_?" Jared's eyes glittered.

"I mean until they made it legal, you jerk." Jensen said. "Besides, you _know_ what a spitfire I am in bed, so why would you want to buy the cow, since you already get the sex for free?"

"Yes, that's true. I only want the free sex with my mixed metaphors. But then, I went and had all the household appliances outfitted with the knobs on the left, and the door handles on the right. You have to marry me."

Jared did more than re-outfit the knobs and door handles. Jared hired an Occupational Therapist home modifications specialist to make adaptations, so now the entire house was left-handed user friendly. 

"Left sided knobs equals love, you know." Jared made a kissy face. " _And_ free sex."

Jensen smiled looking at the silver band on his left ring finger, as he gently massaged his right hand. "Or you could find another lefty."

"Don't want another lefty. Believe me, one's enough." Jared shook his head. "All right. What else do I need to know before encountering the Ackles household?"

"You might want to start your Egypt trip early," Jensen said. 

"Early?"

"Like now." 

Jared was going to learn on the spot. Donna and Alan Ackles's actions, God love them, would speak for themselves, so words wouldn't matter at this point. Besides, things might be different. Maybe Jensen's parents had mellowed with age. "Now's good."

"No way. Whatever you think your parents are, I'm sure it's not that bad. I honestly can't wait to meet them."

"You say that now, young Jedi," Jensen said. His head began a quiet pounding, his shoulder was close to aching again, and everything in him said that this was an absurdly bad idea. But Jared wanted to meet his parents, and because he was leaving for a year—maybe _two_ —Jensen agreed. Jensen also needed to show Jared what his parents were like because when you married someone, you also, kind of, married their family, too.

"Let's eat lunch and then you'll see for yourself."

"Hold on, your parents know you're here. Won't they want to see you right away?"

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Jensen winked to take the sting out. "No, it's okay. Don't worry."

Jared's eyes opened wide, and his eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Really?"

"Come on, let's eat. Then I'll introduce you."

Jared came from a family whose idea of happiness was family. Jensen knew that his parents were foreign to anything Jared knew. But before they went into their future together, Jensen knew he owed Jared a piece of his past. Donna and Alan Ackles were his parents and whatever faults they had, Jensen loved them. Like it or not, they were _his_ history.

 

~~*~~*~~  
 **Part Two**  
~~*~~*~~

Jensen's parents lived in a pretty white house. White roof, white brick front, and a white front door. The doorbell played a little tune instead of ringing ding dong, and when the front door opened, the beige ceramic floor tiles bordering the white carpet were complimented by clean, white walls.

Jensen's dad, Alan, stood in the open doorway. He was a thin, balding man, shorter than his son. He wore a mint green polo shirt and light gray, casual slacks.

"Jensen, son." He said with a quick, genuine smile.

"Hey, dad." Jensen gave his father a one-armed hug.

Alan turned to Jared, "You must be Jensen's friend. So glad to meet you."

"You do know that Jared is my boyfriend, right?" Jensen stood back beside Jared, but couldn't help the fondness he felt for his dad.

"Friend, boyfriend," Alan grinned and shrugged. 

"Nice to meet you, too, sir." Jared held out his hand and shook Alan's. 

"Well, come in, come in. Mommy's in here."

Jared turned to Jensen and mouthed, _"Mommy?"_

Jensen nodded and smiled as Alan led them down the hallway and into a room on the left.

Donna Ackles sat in a recliner in the large, yellow family room. Her feet were raised and a pink pillow supported her head. She wore a white sundress with lavender ruffles, and had silver lamé sandals on her pink-nailed pedicured feet. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back, away from her face into a high pony tail, showing off her bright, blue eyes.

A glass of lemonade sat on the little table next to her and she had the TV remote in her right hand. When she saw them enter the room, she nodded to her husband who promptly came over and operated the mechanism to sit her upright. 

"Jensen, Jensen! Give your mom a kiss." Donna spoke with a faint Texan drawl. She turned her cheek to the right accepting Jensen's kiss. "And you must be Jared." Pronouncing it "Jerrid," she extended her hand daintily.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm Jared," he smiled, gently shaking her hand. "Thank you for letting us visit on such short notice." 

"Well, let me take a look at you both." She looked them up and down appraisingly. "Jensen, you're too thin, but Jared, you look like you're in good shape. Do you do sports?"

"No, ma'am, pottery."

Donna frowned, but then shrugged. "Jensen used to play sports and was in all sorts of extra curricular sports activities in high school. He was very athletic and very popular." She smiled at Jared. "Did you know that?" 

"No ma'am," Jared replied, returning her smile. "I didn't know that."

"Mom, we don't have to go into my high school record right away. We just got here."

"Yes, he was quite the athlete," Donna spoke over Jensen's protest. "He excelled in baseball, track and field, and golf. There were probably a few more. And he won _so many_ awards for sports and physical fitness. We were _always_ going to awards ceremonies. You'll see the trophies in his room. He was so athletic in high school that it almost didn't matter that he was gay. In fact, it would've been really hard to tell if we didn't know." She giggled lightly. 

Jared blinked, but his smiled never wavered. "Is that so?"

"Except that he grew flowers. He had such a lovely garden. Flowers, flowers everywhere." She smiled knowingly at Jensen. "Oh, and he played the guitar. He had a beautiful singing voice. Did you know that, Jared? Jensen sang in the church choir."

"I didn't know that," Jared replied.

"Do you still play the guitar, Jensen? Or did you decide to give it up?"

"I don't play as much as I used to, mom." Jensen said.

Jared blinked, looking confused as he glanced back and forth between Jensen and his mother.

"Well, that's too bad. Anyway, Jared, it's very nice that you came to see me. And Alan." She nodded to Alan who produced a pink walking cane with white flowers stenciled all over it. "I've been having a couple of bad days with my back, you know. Jensen told you about how I broke my back?"

"On a ski trip, wasn't it?" 

"Oh, he did tell you. I'm glad I don't have to go into it. It can be so awkward sometimes especially when meeting new people. I try to ignore it and simply live through the pain, but sometimes I need some help." She dangled the cane from her wrist.

Jensen watched the interaction. It took less than two minutes, by his estimation, for Donna to present her 'grin and bear it' attitude. It took her less than one to bring up sports and flowers. 

"I've got to warn you, though…" She gave Jensen mock pout. "My son doesn't understand real pain very well, so he's not always very sympathetic." She reached out for Alan. "Help me up, would you, dear."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Ackles, but…"

Alan helped his wife stand up.

"Hey, Jay, let me show you where the bathrooms are and give you a quick tour of the house. They've re-done a lot of the décor, and I'm curious to see what they've done with my old room." He turned to his mother. "If that's okay with you?"

"Of course, dear. Daddy and I are going out for a visit in a few minutes anyway. There's a church group coffee social that we're going to. And you know who's going to be there, don't you?" Jensen's mother lowered her voice. "Loretta Carlson."

"Mom."

"Just saying, dear. You two run along but don't forget to lock the door on your way out. Will you be coming by tomorrow?"

Jared looked dumbfounded. 

"We were hoping we could take you two out for dinner," Jensen said. "If you have the time."

"Lunch would be better. At one of our favorite restaurants?" Donna checked her watch. "Right, daddy?"

"Lunch would be great! That will give us time to catch up. I want to hear how school is going, Jensen, and I'd really like to hear about Jared's upcoming trip to Egypt." 

"Alan, can you get the car out? It's getting late." Donna leaned on her cane and looked up apologetically. "We'll have more time tomorrow. I'll send everyone your love."

"Bye, son," Alan said getting the car keys out of his pocket. "Nice meeting you, Jared."

Donna took small, careful steps as Alan came up from behind to take her elbow. "Help yourself to what's in the refrigerator, and remember to lock up when you leave."

"Bye," Jensen waved left handed before looking at Jared.

Jared frowned as he watched Jensen's parents walk out and lock the door behind them.

"Let me get this straight," Jared said slowly. "You haven't seen your mom and dad in over three years."

"Over four years." Jensen corrected.

"You haven't seen your mom and dad in over _four_ years. You fight your way through a hellish three hour flight so you can introduce your future husband to them, and they go out for coffee with friends after saying a quick "Hi" and locking the door? With _us_ inside?"

Jensen nodded. "That's the correct chronology of events."

"I mean, can that be right?" Jared tapped his head lightly. "Am I missing something?"

"Not a thing."

"Your mother accuses you of not understanding what pain is, and that you are _unsympathetic_?"

"Ahh, here you did miss something."

"Oh, thank God. I couldn't believe I really heard her say that."

"You missed that she said I didn't know what _real_ pain is. I don't understand what real pain is like." Jensen touched Jared's hand. "But hey, let's take a look at my old digs, shall we?"

Jared's expression morphed into disbelief, and then into more disbelief.

"I can't wrap my head around this," Jared muttered.

"Well, it's called a great room. It's a combination of living room and family room." Jensen took Jared's arm and turned him around to face the stone fireplace. 

"You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean. Still, let's start here in this great room with this fireplace."

"Does she have any idea how much you've gone through? How much?"

Jensen cut him off with a quick kiss. "Babe, you're going to have to suspend your beliefs for now. My parents loved me, they still do, but you're going to have to let go of everything you know and listen to another point of view."

"Point of view?" Jared shook his head again. "How can there be another point of view?" 

"Look at this." Jensen brought Jared's attention back to the large fireplace. "When we were little, dad would buy firewood at Kroger's grocery store for those handful of winter days when it was actually cold enough to light a fire."

"What does that...?"

"Just listen. We didn't roast marshmallows or anything, but the fire made the house smell woodsy—and nice."

Jared stared into Jensen's eyes. "Jensen?"

Jensen nodded and continued. "At Christmas, mom would slice the dough, cut it into quarters and bake Pillsbury Tollhouse cookies. To us, they were homemade. Springtime was when we dug up the backyard so mom could plant her tomatoes and her spices. Fresh lavender and basil smells so good when you crush it between your fingers."

Jared cocked his head, but stayed silent. 

"Summertime, dad would get us all out of the house and into the driveway. Armed with huge K Mart sponges, we'd hose down his truck and mom's car, and use the wrong kind of detergent to wash cars. The cars, the driveway, the front lawn and all us kids ended up in a big bubbly mess."

"Then why?"

"What I'm saying is that, despite what it looks like, I had snatches of a real childhood. There were good times like that, Jared. In between the Ladies Garden Club, dad's Rotary Club, mom's doctor's visits, the church groups, the weekends my parents took off together, and generally being ignored, when they had time for us, there were Ragu spaghetti dinners with garlicky Texas toast, and Dairy Queen ice cream."

Jensen smiled, but it almost felt like an apology. "It wasn't like your childhood with your full time parents, but for us, it was what we knew." 

"Who's Loretta Carlson?"

Jensen sighed. "She's Steve's mother."

"Steve as in _Steve_?"

"Did you ever wonder why I didn't have any trouble with my parents—with my mother—about being gay? It was because, if Loretta Carlson's son could be gay, then it was okay for Donna Ackles's son to be gay. When Steve and I started dating, it was a great social coup for her. It actually improved her standing with her peers. 

"It was too bad when, years later, a softball injury caused me to pay more attention to myself than to Steve, forcing Steve to find someone more attentive and caring." Jensen paused. "My mother never quite forgave me for that. If I hadn't pitched that game, she would still have a Carlson for a relative."

"Wow," Jared was as close to speechless as Jensen had ever seen. "Wow."

"Sorry, I should have warned you."

"I…" Jared shook his head again. "…had no idea."

"I know you didn't and that's one of the reasons why I put this off as long as I did. My childhood is far removed from yours. Thank God for that."

"Are parents allowed to be like that?" Jared asked half teasing.

"As long as there are no visible marks," Jensen joked. 

"Wow," Jared repeated.

Jensen rubbed Jared's back and sat them both down on the cream-colored loveseat by the window.

"Jensen," Jared asked after a few moments contemplating the cold fireplace. "Why don't they care? How can they even think about leaving you here to "lock up on your way out" when they haven't seen you in so long?" 

"That's the puzzle, right?" Jensen continued rubbing up and down Jared's back. "They do care. No, Jay, they really do, but even as kids we always knew that it was mom and dad. Mommy and daddy. Donna and Alan. Only them. The two of them. A world unto themselves. Even when Joshua, Jensen and Mackenzie came into the picture…well, the picture didn't change. It was still Alan and Donna. They built a little cocoon around themselves where dad took care of mom and mom took care of herself. We kids were taken care of, and we were loved, but _outside_ of the world they built for themselves.

"That was okay though, because even though we knew we were not their priority, we knew that they were important to each other. Oddly, it gave us a sense of security that kind of made up for it. We had lots friends whose parents divorced and spent time with "Dad's family" and "Mom's family." The one thing we had growing up was that Dad and Mom were forever for each other. Beyond the kids, beyond the church groups, beyond the neighbors, they were rock solid. It was Dad loving mom, dad taking care of mom, and mom letting him take care of her."

Jensen took a breath and looked at the large family portrait hanging above the mantle. Donna was seated, looking lovely in her shiny red satin dress, smiling for the camera. Dad stood grinning behind her, one hand holding Mackenzie's small right hand, and his other arm draped around Joshua's shoulders. Jensen sat cross-legged in the foreground to the left of Donna, staring into the lens. "It was mom. Having dad do it all because mom was pretty, and sometimes in pain, and so dependent upon dad, that my dad became the answer to both their prayers. They were all they needed."

"Jensen," Jared said slowly. "When you have a family you can't be that selfish, you can't just do what you want. When you have a family, you have to love them more than that. You have to bring them into that 'cocoon' of love."

"No, you don't," Jensen said gently. "Josh, Mackenzie and I are proof that you don't have to."

"Didn't you want it? Didn't you want parents who thought the sun rose and set on you?" 

"Of course we did." Jensen bit his lip, and then continued softly, "It's wonderful that your folks feel that way about you guys, to know that that kind of unconditional love is possible, but for what it's worth, my parents love us as much as they can."

"It's not enough."

"What?" Jensen almost laughed, but Jared looked ready to cry.

"It's not enough. They," Jared pulled in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Jen, but your parents are oblivious, to you, your life, and to who you are."

"Not only me," Jensen said. "It's like that with all of us. Josh, Mack and me."

"Your mother brushes you off. She discounts your achievements when they don't reflect on her. She dismisses me, your partner, and…" Jared had a hard time with the next part. "She doesn't care about your pain. She rejects your whole disability." 

"She doesn't reject it, Jay. She ignores it. She has her own pain, her own disability." Jensen sighed. "Don't you think I wish we were more like your family? But believe it or not, it works. My parents have been married for thirty-seven years. How often does that happen?" Jensen felt defensive, but he had to show Jared the plus side.

Jared said softly, "My folks."

"I know. Married forty-one years in December. It's not a contest, babe, I just wanted you to know why it took me so long to introduce them to you. My parents are, well, they're mine. They were all the parents I had until I met yours."

"Where are your brother and sister, now?"

"My sister moved to Jacksonville. My brother moved to Seattle."

"Jensen. I didn't know that you had such a..."

Jensen shot him a look.

"…such a distant family."

Jensen looked up at Mackenzie's young face in the family portrait. " _Distant_ , is an understatement."

"What, Jen?" Jared stepped close and slipped his arm around Jensen's waist.

"Thinking." Jensen pressed himself close to Jared's side as Jared waited patiently. 

Jensen sighed into Jared's neck. "When Mackenzie was young, couldn't have been more than ten or eleven, her Girl Scout troop had a daughter and dad dinner. It was a night where the girls and their fathers square danced together and ate bad macaroni and cheese. A time for just the two of them. Well, my mom had a "bout" that night and my father had to cancel on Mack. He told her, "Your mom will always be my number one girl, you know." At age ten, Mack knew that she would always be second best to the number one man in her life. Her dad. Mack has been married and divorced three times."

"And Josh?"

"Still not married." Jensen took Jared's fingers and twined them with his. "But I'm engaged to the love of my life. So, there's that." Jensen smiled. "And us."

"And always." Jared agreed. 

~~*~~

"So, Jared, what made you decide on archeology?" Alan Ackles sipped the last of his sweet iced tea.

"Why archeology, you ask?" Jared smiled and wadded his napkin up. "Jensen knows."

"Because Jared likes the idea that the way that throwing clay now is similar to the way primitive man and Renaissance man made pottery and created art. And in a small way," Jensen held his thumb and forefinger apart, "a very small way, it ties him to them."

"No, that's 'Why Ceramics,'" Jared corrected, smiling. He turned to Jensen's father and said, "I like the discovery, the history, the hunt for new relics and new knowledge. Basically, I think it's cool." 

"That's nice, dear." Donna Ackles fanned herself with the dessert menu. "It's lucky that you are able to make a living teaching ancient history and—what?—ancient art?"

"I am a lucky guy," Jared agreed

Jensen had ordered breakfast for lunch. Eggs and pancakes were easy to eat and he could wield the fork in his left hand without making a mess, however it did take him longer to finish.

"The shoulder still bothering you, son?" Alan asked.

"Sometimes." Jensen sipped his coffee.

"It's still pretty bad," Jared stared at Jensen. "The plane ride here was rough."

Jensen shook his head, trying to quickly swallow the hot coffee. 

"What kind of hurt can a shoulder get from a plane ride?" Donna asked. Her eyes were wide and innocent. "Now I know my back cramps up if I sit too long. But that's the way it is with a broken back."

"Mrs. Ackles, I don't think you have the full scope of Jensen's disability."

"Jay," Jensen patted Jared's arm. "It's okay," he whispered. 

"Disability?" Donna laughed a deep, genuine laugh. "Oh, Jared, Jensen has always been overly dramatic. Calling a hurt shoulder a disability." She laughed again. "I mean, he hurt it a _long_ time ago."

Jared seethed, Jensen sighed. "Really, babe, don't worry about it."

Jared remained tense but silent as the waitress approached their table.

"Would you like some dessert, mom? Dad?" Jensen offered.

"I'd love some chocolate cake." Donna smiled and patted the table in front of her coquettishly. 

"Dad?" 

"Oh, some hot tea would be great, thanks, son."

"Jared?" Jensen watched Jared's jaw tic from clenching his teeth. "Jay? Dessert?"

Jared turned slowly toward Jensen. His features softened as he looked into Jensen's eyes. He leaned down, taking Jensen in a sweet, chaste kiss.

"That's all the sugar I need." Jared pulled back. "That," he smiled up at the waitress, "And some strawberry ice cream." 

She grinned and left with their order.

Expecting his mother to look embarrassed at Jared's public display of affection, Jensen was surprised to see that Donna's eyes were dark. Her look bordered on anger.

She fiddled with her napkin and then looked up from the table smiling through gritted teeth. "I don't know if you know this Jared, but when Jensen first got hurt playing softball— _softball_ of all things—he called here and asked daddy's opinion on whether he should try to have his shoulder fixed or let it lie. Remember that, daddy?"

"I do," Alan nodded. "Yes."

"The doctors said that he should let it go and heal on its own. Did you know that, Jared?" 

"I know there are always pros and cons where shoulder surgery is concerned," Jared replied, shooting Jensen a quizzical look.

Jensen shrugged one shoulder and they both turned, staring at Jensen's mother.

"Well, Jensen decided to have surgery to fix it. I remember that I, and Steve, and Loretta, _all_ told Jensen _not_ to do it. _All_ the doctors said that he'd get better results if he didn't have surgery. So, all that surgery was his choice, not ours. I guess it didn't really turn out for the best, did it, son?"

Jensen shook his head tightly looking at Jared, silently asking Jared to stay quiet.

"Mom," he said calmly. "You knew I wanted to play softball. Without surgery, I'd never get to pitch a softball again. With the surgery, at least there was a chance."

"So what?" Donna turned to Jared. "That's what I said, Jared. So what if he couldn't play softball? Jensen had his business, he had Steve, and he had two arms that worked. But he _insisted_ ; said that softball was important, so he had surgery after surgery after surgery to fix the unfixable." She shook her head. "Such a shame."

"I thought you liked that Jensen was athletic?" Jared kept his cool, placing his hand on Jensen's thigh under the table. "Wouldn't you want him to be able to play in a sport he loved?" 

"Stubborn. Like his daddy. And I don’t mean that in a good way." Donna barely came up for air. "I mean, what was Jensen thinking? Unable to make a living _and_ gay? Then Steve left. I didn't blame him, but I am sorry he left. I'm real sorry he left." She placed a hand daintily in front of her mouth. "Not that I'm sorry you're here, dear. Not at all. I think being a college professor is very nice."

"Mom," Jensen chimed in. "Do you want me to order you a cup of coffee with your dessert?"

"No, thank you, son. But maybe your daddy will give me a sip of his hot tea?" She turned big eyes to Alan.

"Of course," Alan smiled. "When it gets here."

"Mrs. Ackles, I have seen Jensen unable to eat, unable to speak, unable to _breathe_ , because he was hurting so bad."

"Jay, please." Jensen sighed.

"I've seen Jensen," he continued, "get sick with pain from a breeze blowing across his arm, from raindrops hitting his skin, and from an accidental brush of my fingers at the wrong time." 

Donna raised her eyebrows, looked over at Alan, and then addressed Jared. "A lot of it's in his head, Jared. I know you like him, and I know you hate to hear it, Jensen," She swung her pony tail and aimed her words at her son. "A lot of this is in your head."

Jensen realized at that moment that he had never seen Jared angry, purely angry, before. When Jared's ex-boyfriend, Chad, thoughtlessly hurt Jensen's arm almost two years ago, Jared had been furious, but the anger was tempered by his concern for Jensen. Right now, Jared's fury was pure. 

Jensen leaned close and spoke into Jared's ear. "Nothing you say is going to work. It's okay to drop it."

Jared turned toward Jensen's mother. "The pain is _not_ in your son's head, he suffers from Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy. His shoulder aches all the time and he is _disabled_. That's what you call it when you can't use your right hand and arm _at all._ "

"Jerrid," Donna said, patiently. "Broken bones are real. The pain _I_ have is real because the bones in my back _broke_." Donna wrinkled her nose. "Jensen has a left-over crick in his shoulder that I know he thinks it hurts, he really does, and maybe it does hurt a little, but it couldn't possibly hurt the way my back and legs hurt. It _couldn't_." Donna shifted her weight and burrowed into the chair. "I did research on it. These people who have that fibromyalgia, and that reflex dystrophy, only _think_ they have pain. Well, these people have never had their backs broken, I can tell you."

"How can you not know? How can you not care?"

"So, dad," Jensen turned to his father. "How's your golf game? What's your handicap?"

"Oh!" Alan perked up. "My new handicap's fifteen. Finally! I thought I'd _never_ break seventeen."

"Good for you, dad."

Jared's eyes never left Donna's. "Mrs. Ackles, did _you_ know that flying out here would be too much on Jensen's system? _He_ knew it would, but he did it anyway because he wanted you to meet me. He did it anyway because _I_ wanted to meet _you_."

" _Fifteen_. That's great, dad. You're scoring under ninety now?"

Alan smiled proudly. "Yeah," he blushed. "It took me quite a few years and many rounds of golf to get the hip rotation right."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Jensen's never had what you would call a strong constitution. He _never_ liked to fly, the plane ride here made him seasick or something."

_"Seasick?"_

"Jay, stop," Jensen whispered. "It doesn't matter." Jensen looked at his parents with an easy smile and said, "You know, you two go ahead and have your desserts, Jared and I should be heading back to the hotel." 

Jared stood. "Mr. and Mrs. Ackles. Your son is the kindest, most courageous person I've ever met. He handles his pain and disability with grace and dignity and for you to minimize his suffering is wrong." Jared looked across the table at Jensen's father, and then directly at Donna, "You are his parents, for God's sake. You're supposed to _take care_ of him. Believe me, it's a privilege and a pleasure helping him, supporting him, and loving him." He eyed Donna. "You should try it."

Jensen sat speechless. 

"Now, you're just being mean, Jerrid." Donna bristled. "You're accusing me of _horrid_ things. I'm Jensen's mother, and I know him best. If you're going to be mean like that, you probably _should_ go and leave daddy and me here."

"Now, mom," Jensen said.

"Just abandon us here and let me die in peace."

"Mom," Jensen sighed. "We're at Denny's. You really can't be abandoned here since dad drove you." He looked over at Jared.

The look on Jared's face halted Jensen's words. Jared had paled and was staring into the distance.

"Jay? Hey, Jay, it's okay. Remember I told you that was what she always said?"

"I've got to go." Jared looked helplessly at Jensen and headed for the door.

The waitress appeared with their desserts.

Jensen stood and awkwardly got out his wallet, dropping four twenty dollar bills on the table. "Jared and I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow before we leave."

"Take care, dear," Donna said taking Alan's hot tea from the waitress. "Talk to you tomorrow."

~~*~~*~~

"You weren't there, Jensen."

"I'm pretty sure I was."

"No. That's the point. You were there, but you weren't. Do you remember anything?"

"Jared, I know I did something supremely stupid. Why would you want to relive that? I'll admit it, I'm an idiot, and you're king of the world." Jensen spoke gently because he knew that his mother's offhand remark precipitated Jared's current meltdown.

"Stop it! You didn't see _you_. Shit." Jared sat on the edge of the hotel bed and put his head into his hands. "Shit, _shit_."

"I guess this visit to the future in-laws wasn't as romantic as you first thought."

"You said there was a drum in your kitchen. You saw your dog, Jensen, and you couldn't couldn't _breathe_." Jared looked up at him. "And then you had a seizure." 

"I know, and I'm sorry." He sat and rubbed Jared's back. "I'm sorry." 

"Tell me that you remember it."

"Why is it important?"

"I guess I want to know that a part of you was still there with me?" Jared shrugged sadly. "That you weren't as far out of it as it seemed?"

Jensen sighed. Jared got emotional at odd times over Jensen's accidental pain med overdose. Right now, though, Jensen didn't blame him after meeting his messed up parents. 

"Okay, I remember feeling this groggy, dreamy feeling. Then it got hard to breathe. I saw," he took breath, "I _thought_ I saw my little dog, Tucker. I remember him very clearly, wagging his tail and licking my toes. Weird, huh?"

Jared forced a smile.

"I remember _you_ , Jay. I may have been out of it in other ways, but I knew that you were there with me, talking to me, rubbing my chest." He stroked Jared's cheek. "I knew you were there. I knew I wasn't alone."

Jared nodded. "After you started seizing, I didn't know what to do. I knew what not to do. I mean, I know that people can't really swallow their tongues, right?"

"Right." Jensen did some research after his brain short circuited.

"The EMTs came in and tried a bunch of things to stop the seizure. It was working, too, until they said that your heartbeat was erratic. One of them asked me what you took, and I told him. Jesus, he made it sound like you did it on purpose." He looked up with big, wet eyes, and a sad little grin. "But you didn't."

"But I didn't." Jensen ran his hand through Jared's hair. 

"I have dreams about it. How they had to shock your heart."

"I know you do." Jensen gently scratched Jared's scalp.

Jared took in a shaky breath. "I have nightmares that I didn't get to you in time, that I stayed mad at you an hour longer than I did and was too late. Dreams of you lying on your sofa all alone waiting for me, and I never came, and you died."

Jensen once had his own nursery/landscaping business. As a small business owner, he felt that it was his responsibility to keep his customers as safe as possible, so he'd gotten his CPR certification. He'd even looked into purchasing an Automated External Defibrillator for _The Green Grower_. One thing he had learned was that there were lasting psycho-emotional effects to regular, non-medical, people initiating and applying cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Strong, recurrent emotions and it didn't matter whether the victim lived or died. 

Jared, himself, didn't administer CPR to Jensen or shock him with an AED, but the lasting effects of watching others save Jensen's life left an immense, and terrifying, impression on him. 

"It's over, babe. This whole chapter is over. Tomorrow morning, we pack up, I call the folks to say goodbye and we hit the road. You should count yourself lucky that I didn't insist that you go down on one knee to ask dad for my hand in marriage." 

"I'll be glad to get back home. I'll be glad to get back to normal—I mean the normal we have with you and me and two big dogs and a housekeeper that comes in every week and a family that loves us." Jared's eyes went huge. "I didn't mean it like that."

Jensen took pity. "I know. After knowing your family, I realize now, that's how it's supposed to be. "

~~*~~*~~

Jensen pushed himself up, and sat gingerly at the edge of the hotel bed. The bedside clock read 2:30AM which meant that they had at least eight hours before check out. That should be more than enough time. He cradled his arm carefully, but hissed as he scooted forward to stand.

"Jense, what?" Jared's sleepy voice slurred.

Jensen sighed, "Remember how I told you I didn't need the heavy meds?" 

"Yeah."

"I may have been mistaken."

That got Jared's attention. "Hang on, babe."

"It's not bad yet, but I know if I don't knock myself out now, the throbbing will match the resonant frequency of the whine in my mother's voice." He tried to smile, but he wasn't kidding. The pain, the dreaded RSD pain, the pain he'd spent the last half decade of his life battling, this goddamned, unnecessary, stupid bastard of a fuck up pain, was rearing its ugly head. 

At home, Jensen always kept a set of pill bottles within close reach on the bedside table and a flashlight to read the labels, for those rare occasions when the pain woke him up. Right now, though, all his pill containers were stashed in his duffel across the room.

_"My son doesn't understand real pain very well, so he's not always very sympathetic."_

Jensen rubbed his shoulder. This pain certainly felt real.

Jared rolled out of bed. "I'll get your meds, hang loose, okay?" 

"Thanks," Jensen said. His heart beat faster as he anticipated the muscle clamping spasms, the temperature changes in his skin, the swelling, and the all-encompassing pain the RSD brought. 

Jensen had changed his team of physicians and had been open to any treatment they felt would help. He got lucky; the new pain modalities were working. Jensen got his last stellate ganglion block injection six weeks ago for the sympathetic pain. These injections, along with his pain meds, had the RSD pretty well managed.

But the pain never, forever, went away. 

Jared zipped open one of the side pockets on Jensen's duffel and pulled out several orange prescription bottles. 

A small series of spasms ran up and down Jensen's arm from shoulder to wrist, and his fingers started heating up. He sat still, consciously working on relaxing his body.

"Here." Jared held a full glass of water within reach. "Full swallow, then these." Jared opened his palm holding a variety of large and small pills.

Jensen took the glass, downed half of it, handed it back then took the drugs. Jared filled the glass and gave it back for Jensen to finish.

Jensen sighed softly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jared sat on the bed next to Jensen. Not touching, not even breathing where Jensen could feel it. 

Jensen closed his eyes and breathed in, as a deep pain scratched at his arm bones.

"And she says you don't understand what real pain is," Jared whispered with his head turned away. 

Jensen shifted his weight and whimpered.

"Do you want me to help you lie down?" Jared asked.

"No, no, I'm good sitting here. Let's just talk a while, okay?" Jensen often asked Jared to talk, tell stories, or sing to him, to keep his mind occupied long enough for the meds to work. Sometimes he wanted nothing but silence, but sometimes he wanted talking. 

"Sure. Anything." Jared sat motionless. "What's on your mind?"

"Well," Jensen breathed in through his nose. "For one thing, when my mother said I didn't know what real pain was, she's not alone."

"If I ever hear anybody other than your mother say that, I'll punch them in the face."

Jensen took in another long breath. "Thanks for not punching out my mother."

Jared snickered. "You're welcome."

"Most people, and not only my mom, think that real pain is pain that makes sense. Pain you can _see_." 

"Like two black eyes, a bloody nose and a fat lip?"

Jensen closed his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, like that. Conditions like fibromyalgia, RSD, depression, temporomandibular joint disorder, and even migraines are invisible. Perception that…" Jensen's hand and forearm twitched, but settled. "Uh, perception is that the pain is in our heads."

Jared's palm pressed against Jensen's left leg and gently massaged his knee. "I know, Jen, and it's not fair."

"Like my mother said, real pain is a broken bone. Arthritis, where the joints are hot and swollen, bloody wounds and dark purple bruises are show stoppers, because those are the things that make pain true. My kind of pain, the RSD pain, isn't caused by anything you can see."

"I remember you saying that reflex sympathetic dystrophy was pain for no reason," Jared said. "What you should have said was that it's pain that shouldn't be."

"You're right. It is pain that shouldn't be." Jensen blinked his eyes open and was surprised when a tear trickled down his cheek. "I mean, I had a shoulder injury and multiple unsuccessful surgeries, to correct it, but the RSD came after. At first everyone understood because you could see the surgical incisions. But once they healed and everything looked normal, the thought that there was this lingering, secret, horrible pain didn't make sense. The doctors fixed my shoulder. The therapists worked on strength, range and function, and therefore, my shoulder, arm and hand, had no reason to hurt. It didn't make sense that there was still pain."

Jared scooted closer and brushed his fingers across Jensen's wet cheeks. 

"But it's not in my head. It's here, Jared." Jensen touched his arm. "Please tell me you _know_ the pain is still here, right?" Jensen was desperate to hear Jared say he knew. 

"I _do_ know, Jen. God," Jared said. "I never questioned it."

"She says it my fault." Jensen's words were slurring, and the world was slowing down around him. "She says it's my fault because I insisted on all the surgeries. The doctors didn't think that my shoulder would ever heal well enough for me to pitch a softball. They didn't want to do anymore cutting, but I made them do them. I wanted to play softball again, but instead, I ended up like this." 

"Jen, shh." 

"It _is_ my fault." Jensen turned his wet eyes to Jared. "It's all my fault."

"Jensen." Jared's voice was firm. "The drugs are hitting you hard right now, and you don't really know what you're saying, but I do. Even if you won't remember this conversation in the morning I can't let you think for even one drug addled moment that you are to blame or deserve any of this. You were stuck with the short straw, babe. That's a whole lot different than causing any of this to happen."

Jensen dropped his head, looking at the bent wrist and thin fingers lying in his lap. " _I_ blame me."

"But I don't." Jared's voice rumbled like soft thunder in the distance. "I don't blame you and I know you're not imagining the pain."

Jensen smiled sadly as another tear dropped off his nose.

"Hey, it's okay," Jared said. "You're getting better all the time. Remember that. The pain's getting better, you're doing great in school, and we're planning a future together."

Jensen took in a shaky breath and nodded.

"Hey," Jared kissed his temple. "I love you. I’m going to marry you." 

"You won't be like my dad, right?"

Jared barked a laugh. "You mean about playing years of golf to get the hip rotation right?"

"No, I mean about taking care of me? Like my dad dedicated his life to making mom's more comfortable. You won't do that?" Shit, Jensen thought, no more drugs. Pain meds made him stupid. 

"I do understand your dad a little more, now," Jared said, carding his fingers through Jensen's hair. 

"Never, Jay—you can't ever give up what you were meant to be, what you were born to do, for anyone. Not even for me." Jensen's eyes were closing on their own. 

"Ahh, pain meds kicking in." Jared began angling Jensen down to lie on his back. "Looks like Bebe Ribozzo has left the building." 

"Yeah," Jensen sighed a smile as Jared propped pillows under his head and covered him with a sheet. "Do me a favor?"

"Maybe," Jared said getting into the bed.

"What happens in Dallas stays in Dallas, okay?" Jensen yawned and scratched at his cheek.

"Meaning what, exactly?"

Jensen opened his eyes as wide as he could to see Jared's face. "Don't tell your family about my family." 

Jared tilted his head back and laughed. The look on his face, though, was not one of pleasure, but a cross between a smile and a sob. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Like I said, all families are different, but if you don't want me to tell them anything, I won't tell them anything."

"Promise?" Now Jensen's own voice had an echo to it.

Jared kissed his forehead. "I promise. Go to sleep."

"I want to tell you one more thing," Jensen tried to keep his tongue working. 

"You are a _chatty_ drunk," Jared said.

"Your 'real life' was a childhood fantasy of mine—like an orphan who dreams of getting adopted by rich parents, or even better, their real parents who were so sorry they gave them up and are now able to have them back, and they're the most wonderful people ever. That's how I feel when I'm with your family. Like a new, wonderful family found me and loves me, warts and all."

"Please tell me you aren't going to start singing [Maybe](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrr3EmaF3gA) from "Annie," Jared said. 

Jensen breathed a deep inhale/exhale and realized that the effect of the meds hit before the full-blown pain did, and that he was a hair's breadth from a drugged and happy sleep. "Maybe far away, or maybe real nearby..." Jensen sang into the pillow. "He may be pouring her coffee, she may be straightening his tie."

"She is wrong, you know," Jared said softly. "Your mother. She's wrong."

"I know," Jensen closed his eyes and smirked his lopsided smile. "And there's something else thing I know."

"What's that?" Jared's voice was fading away

"I'm taking your name."

~~*~~*~~  
Part Three  
~~*~~*~~

Thanksgiving was at the Padalecki's house this year. 

Jensen recalled the previous Thanksgivings he and Jared had celebrated together. The first was eight months after they'd started dating, but for three and a half of those months Jared was out of state working on projects, so their relationship was still new. On that first Thanksgiving Day, Jared cooked, Jensen ate, and a triptophan coma ensued not at all helped by the Miller Lite and languorous mutual hand jobs.

Their second Thanksgiving, Jared was overseas, editing and lining up spot shots for the documentary he'd filmed over that summer. Jensen had a turkey dinner with Chris and Charlotte. 

Last Thanksgiving, Jared's parents threw a big restaurant gala. Sherri and Gerry Padalecki booked the entire top floor of a five star restaurant and invited their whole family and extended family to join them for a combination Thanksgiving and Fortieth Wedding Anniversary. There were over a hundred and fifty people giving thanks and offering congratulations in that upstairs dining room last year. 

This year, Thanksgiving would be celebrated at Jared's parent's house. This year, Jared said he would formally announce his intentions to make an honest man of Jensen in front of "food and family."

"How do I look?" Jensen made a small pirouette in front of the full length mirror. He wore black slacks, white pearl button down shirt, black and silver striped silk vest, western double string black tie—untied—and his black sling. 

"You look yummy."

"That's your hunger talking."

"Possibly," Jared said, looking thoughtful. "But do you _really_ think that's why I want to get my teeth on that string tie?" 

"Hmm, you're looking kind of edible, yourself," Jensen said, admiring Jared's appearance. Jared wore dark gray slacks, a dark purple button down with French cuffs, and a deep blue, cashmere suit jacket. Jensen walked up to Jared and palmed Jared's chest over the pierced nipple hidden beneath his shirt.

Jared leaned into Jensen's touch. Jensen tipped his chin up catching Jared in a deep, heated kiss. After several seconds, or minutes, Jensen didn't know which, they both stepped back.

"Wow," Jensen said, leaning in for another taste.

"Hold on," Jared said. "The pièce de résistance." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an orange silk bandana appliquéd with yellow, red and brown fall leaves. Jared flapped it open, knotted it under his shoulder length hair and tucked the tail securely. His right ear had a cascade of gold hoops.

"Okay, now." Jared took Jensen's mouth for another ride. 

"You're really good at that," Jensen said, catching his breath.

"I know." Then, with his arms raised out to the side, Jared asked, "How do I look?"

He looked so Jared. So adorably, unabashedly Jared. Jensen took a cleansing breath and said. "I was right before, highly edible." 

"You think so, huh?" Jared closed in on him

"Nom, nom, nom," Jensen replied, placing small kisses along Jared's jaw.

Jared swept Jensen into his arms and nibbled at his ear. "Ohh, I'm making that _my_ line."

"Not if I start chewing on you first." Jensen pressed his lips to Jared's and encircled his waist with his arm. Both of them opened their mouths at the same time and Jensen sucked Jared's tongue into his.

Jared's hands went up into Jensen's hair which was almost, but not quite, as long as Jared's since he didn't mind helping with the washing and combing. 

So many things Jared made easy for him. So many things Jensen took for granted. 

~~*~~*~~

Sherri and Gerry Padalecki's house had been transformed into a giant banquet hall. A string quartet played holiday music on a makeshift stage in the corner of the large living room, and servers walked around with trays of eggnog, sparkling wine, soda, and water. While there weren't as many people as they had at the restaurant last year, the current number of hungry mouths was impressive. 

As the caterers were setting up the hotplates and chafing dishes, the guests roamed around eating appetizers, drinking from the open bar set up in the library, and mingling with one another. Chris and Charlotte were there with their new baby, John, and Misha, dressed in a full tuxedo, came stag.

Jeff, Jared's older brother had a stunning, tall blonde on his arm whom he introduced as Kristen. She had big blue eyes, and a quick, warm smile. Megan, "Doctor Watson" as she now preferred to be called, was pregnant, so she wasn't drinking anything fun from the bar, but her husband Brian was taking full advantage of having a designated driver for the next six and a half months. A variety of friends and family from all over were breathing in the scents of turkey, ham, and roast beef, as well as various familiar side dishes. 

Sherri Padalecki had tables with linen tablecloths and formal place settings set up around their large house, but, as formal as having china coffee cups, crystal water glasses and silver flatware went, there were no name tags on any of the tables, suggesting that anybody could sit anywhere they wanted. 

"Oh, shit Jay," Jensen uttered. "I forgot."

"What?" Jared asked. "What did you forget?"

Jensen dropped his head, speaking to the floor. "I usually don't think to bring one here because your mom usually sets the table for me, and she has one." 

It took Jared a split second, but then he got it. "Don't worry. I'll ask her where it is, and you can keep it in your pocket for wherever we want to sit and eat."

"Thanks." Jensen smiled weakly.

"No problem." 

Jensen had only one hand that worked. It took two, to use a knife and fork to cut turkey, ham, and roast beef. Jensen had a special [utensil](http://www.elderstore.com/rocker-knife-fork-combination.aspx) that had a rocker blade on one side that he could cut with, and prongs on the other to use as a fork. It was kind of a combination steak knife and pitch fork

He had a couple for home, and he took one with him when they went out to eat. One was here permanently, at Jared's folk's house, and Sherri never forgot to set his place with it.

Jared returned to Jensen's side with a bewildered look. "Mom says not to worry about it."

"What?"

"She said, and I quote, 'Don't worry about it.'"

Just then Gerry, Jared's dad, flicked the lights, to calm the crowd and get their attention. The string quartet quieted, and all eyes were on their host. Gerry Padalecki raised his wine glass. 

"Welcome friends and family to this year's Padalecki Thanksgiving celebration. You honor us by letting my wife feed you."

Applause and laughter erupted from the guests. 

"Thanks mom!" Megan called out sweetly.

"You're welcome, Punkin Pie," she teased.

"The joy my family gives me, is what I give thanks for today and every day." He raised his wine glass higher.

Sherri stood next to her husband and said, "We have so much to be thankful for. A new Brian Watson novel being published, and our first grandbaby on the way." 

She blew a kiss to Brian and gave Megan a watery smile before continuing. 

"Jared has an Egyptian adventure planned starting in January. He'll be making new discoveries while promoting world peace." She looked at Jared. "And I always thought you were an overachiever. Guess I was wrong."

Gerry kissed the top of Sherri's head. He continued. "Jeff is expanding our law practice to the west coast. He's going to be far away and we'll miss him, but it's where the path of life is leading him. Besides," he smiled at Kristen, "It doesn't look like he'll be too lonely without us."

Jeff squeezed his girlfriend's arm. She dazzled Gerry with another smile as Sherri's eyes watered again.

Mr. Padalecki looked directly at Jensen. "And Jensen is doing quite well. He's working on his advanced degree at a pace we didn't think possible." His eyes went soft. "We are so proud of you, son." 

Sherri turned to her husband. "I've been able to convince Gerry to go into semi-retirement. We're going to be traveling to faraway places for months at a time. Starting with Hawaii in February."

"See America first," Gerry said, chuckling.

"So," Sherri looked over at the steaming dishes at the caterer's tables. "It looks like the food's ready. Go ahead, line up and dig in."

Gerry smiled broadly. Nodding to the quartet he said, "Strike up the band!" 

Spirited applause and laughter joined the clinking of glasses and the sound of lively holiday strings as the food lines began to form. 

Jared and Jensen decided to hang back at the finger foods and watch the cheerful, hungry, and half drunk dinner guests line up at the serving tables.

"Your family, man, I don't know what to say." Jensen's voice caught.

"Hey, _our_ family now. Not just mine." Jared smiled.

"Yours and mine." Jensen swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut as he nodded. 

"Hey." Jared tilted Jensen's head up. "You know I only love you because you're a snappy dresser, right?"

Jensen knew Jared was lightening the mood Jensen was getting himself into, so he took the out. "Yeah, and I can't wait for you to make good on your promise to get your teeth on this tie. I'd also like your lips on these pearl buttons, and your tongue on this belt buckle." He cocked his hip to the left

"Hey, this is a family event," Jared admonished, then looked at Jensen's silver belt buckle. "But _damn_ that does look tasty." He licked his lips.

Jensen laughed and snagged a coconut shrimp off the tray behind him.

"I should have worn my white coat," Jared sighed dramatically. "I was going to wear my white cashmere instead of the blue, because I look totally awesome in that coat. It says I'm manly and steaming hot with a touch of devil-may care, yet, I always let my vulnerable side peek through."

"Man, your clothes are long-winded," Jensen observed. "So, why didn't you wear it then, Mr. Devil May Care Yet Vulnerable?" 

Jared must have been getting hungry, because he started watching the serving tables. "I was afraid Megan would call me out for wearing white after Labor Day. I mean how embarrassing for my little sister to point and shout, 'How gauche! Jared's going against the rule.'" He gasped and stopped talking. 

"What?" Jensen saw Jared's eyes filling. "What is it, Jay? What's wrong?" He turned his head side to side to see what upset Jared so quickly and so thoroughly. "Tell me."

"Nothing's wrong." Jared shook his head, swiping at his eyes. "Absolutely nothing."

Jensen raised an eyebrow.

"No, really, nothing's wrong. Let's get something to eat." And, like nothing happened, Jared was shifting from foot to foot, anxious to get fed.

"I think wearing white in winter is redundant, anyway," Jensen said, as they sauntered into a line and waited. "And does Megan even use words like, 'gauche'?"

"It's not winter right now, _Jensen_ , it's fall, and wearing white is never, redundant even _in_ winter." Jared sniffed indignantly. "Besides, do you think wearing green in the spring is superfluous, or wearing blue at the beach is repetitious?" 

They were finally at the head of the line and the servers behind the tables smiled as Jensen pointed to the hot slices of turkey breast and honey ham. But before moving on to the stuffing and candied yams, his plate was handed to the next server who deftly cut the meat into bite sized pieces. That was all he did, and he did it for everybody. 

Jensen swallowed and turned to look at the serving table on the opposite side of the room. A dedicated server was cutting all the portions of meat over there as well. It would not have mattered which line Jensen stood in, everybody got their food cut. 

He looked behind him. Jared's eyes were shining. " _Now_ I'll bet you'll concede that it's okay to wear white in winter." 

Jensen took his plate and sank down at the nearest available table. "You don't play fair."

Jared sat next to him and pointed to the left. Jensen followed the line of sight. Three huge dessert carts were being wheeled out and placed strategically for easy access. There were trays and trays of small, finger sized pastries. Carrot cakes, Napoleons, pumpkin rolls, and miniature éclairs. 

Gerry came up behind Jensen and patted him on the back. "The cutting thing was Sherri's idea, but _I_ came up with the desserts," he said proudly.

"That was..." Jensen looked at Jared. "This is..." He looked at Jared's dad. "Thank you."

"This was great, dad. Thanks," Jared said.

"You're welcome. Now where _is_ the little woman?" Gerry looked over his shoulder. Jared's father's cheeks were blushed red as he searched the crowd for his wife. 

Sherri was over by the grand piano, waving her hands in the air, talking to a group of enthralled guests. The smile on her face was as bright as the chandeliers. 

"Stay here." Jared pointed to Jensen, then to Gerry. "You, too."

Gerry turned to Jensen and shrugged apologetically. "Rude kids," he said. "Whatcha gonna do?"

Jensen couldn't help it. He laughed hard and long as Gerry joined in with his jovial cackle.

Jared came back with his mother on his arm. He carefully traded arms with Gerry, so that Gerry and Sherri stood arm in arm. 

"Happy Thanksgiving, Sherri." Jensen stood, smiling broad and full. "And thank you."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Jensen. And, you're welcome." Sherri beamed. 

"Mom, dad, since it's obvious how we all feel about Jensen, I've decided that he should become a legitimate member of the family."

"We already feel he is, son," Gerry said, smiling. 

"I know you do, but we want to make it official, and legal," Jared said. "So, I asked Jensen to marry me."

"Oh, wow!" Sherri's face lit up. "You did?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well?" She looked into Jared's eyes and asked, "What did he say?"

Jensen sputtered a laugh. "I said, 'yes.'"

Jared smirked at his mother. "Smarty pants." Then kissed her cheek.

Gerry hugged Jared in a great bear hug, and stuck out his left hand to shake Jensen's. "Congratulations! That's great. What are your plans?"

"When I get back from Egypt, Jen and I will find a state where same sex marriage is legal and we'll get married there." 

"You're not moving, are you, son?" Gerry asked Jared, then looked at Jensen and amended. "Sons?"

"No. We'll only get married there," Jared said. "Who knows? Maybe by the time I get back, it _will_ be legal here."

Sherri's eyes sparkled as she watched the whole exchange. She turned to Jensen and said, "Well, it certainly took Jared long enough."

"It was through necessity only," Jensen laughed. "He wanted to make sure nobody else swept me off my feet while I waited for my weary traveler to return."

"My son is a lucky man. And I'm glad he got the guts to finally make it official. I would like to say welcome to the family, Jensen, but you're already a member of the family." Sherri smiled, went up on tip toes and kissed Jensen's cheek. "Oh, what the hell. Welcome to the family, Jensen. We do love you, you know." 

"I know," Jensen said. "Warts and all."

Sherri looked across the room. "There's Megan." She patted Gerry's arm as she walked away. "I have some news for her. And a _reception_ to plan."

"Oh," Gerry pointed toward the staircase. "There's Jeff." He smiled. "Maybe I can get to him before my wife does." Gerry winked and made his way over to his eldest son.

A knot formed in Jensen's throat, and for a moment he couldn't breathe. All this love. All this acceptance. For the rest of his life as part of this family. Amazing. 

"Stop thinking, and eat." Jared said. "You already said 'yes' so the hard part's over."

"Okay. Okay."

Jared was wrong. The hard part wasn't over. The hard part would be missing Jared.

~~*~~*~~  
Part Four  
~~*~~*~~

Jensen looked over the list, tapping his gel pen lightly against the paper. He kept a yellow legal pad on the breakfast bar and when something occurred to him, he jotted down what he'd have to do differently while Jared was away. He was the only one who could read his sloppy handwriting.

 

1\. Buy bigger shirts  
2\. Housekeeper coming in more often?  
3\. Cab/taxi service on speed dial  
4\. Make and keep track of all doctors' appointments, including pain doctor appointments and injections, psychologist appointments made well in advance, mark in red on the calendar with mode of transportation penciled in.  
5\. Update ICE numbers. 

Jensen nodded sadly. Because Jared would be on the other side of the world, Jensen's In Case of Emergency information needed modifying. This was going to be tricky. Sherri and Gerry Padalecki would be traveling, Jeff was relocating, Megan was pregnant, and Chris and Charlotte not only had a new baby, they had to run _The Green Grower_.

6\. Buzz hair and keep it buzzed  
7\. What about the dogs? Maybe a yard clean-up service? Arrange help taking Harley to the vet. Chris to help me with the heavy bags of dog food?  
8\. Physical therapy for stretching and transportation for appointments. 

Jensen sighed at that. It made him sad to think of someone else doing what Jared does so lovingly.

9\. Meds: take on time, keep up with prescriptions in a timely manner –before they run out. 

Jared liked to do that for him, as well. Keep up with Jensen's medications. He once explained that it made him feel like it was something he could do to "keep the hurt away."

There was no way for Jared to keep the hurt away when he was gone.  
~~*~~*~~  
Jensen finished making the salad for tonight's dinner. He'd used the adapted cutting board with spikes to impale the vegetables, keeping them steady for peeling and chopping, after placing a sheet of Dycem under the cutting board to keep it from sliding. 

Covering the salad, he moved it close before opening the refrigerator—Jensen knew exactly how long the door would stay open—and deftly placed the bowl inside.

"Huh," Jensen said, looking up. He went over to the yellow pad and wrote:

10\. Get Jared to take all the heavy stuff from the top cabinets and move them to the lower shelves.

Jensen took up the cutting board, washed it off in the sink and put it away. A large, partially filled crock pot sat close by. He dried the counter before rolling the Dycem back down, and applying a different, larger, cutting board. He stuck a big, yellow onion on the center spike and began hacking away at it.

Most people thought that Velcro was the invention of a lifetime, but to Jensen, it was Dycem. [Dycem](http://www.dycem-ns.com/) was one of the keys to his functional independence. He knew it sounded grandiose, but this non slip material made it possible for him to one handedly perform simple tasks without having to chase materials across the counter, the table, and the top of the dresser.

Small things were a big help. For instance, Jared had installed a little retractable tray under the cabinet up by the microwave. That way, Jensen could pull out the tray, go back and get what he wanted to heat up, put it down on the tray, open the door to the microwave, take the item off the tray and put it into the microwave. Seemed like a lot of work, but without it, more than once, Jensen took his cold cup of coffee over to the microwave and stood in front of it looking helpless. Improvements like that made the difference between a big pain in the ass task and a little pain in the ass task.

Jensen knew how to use the adaptations fluidly. Watching him move around the house so easily, one might forget the many accommodations he had to make in his every day life. Several times a day, Jensen had to gauge his status, take inventory of how he was feeling to see what he could do. Could he drive himself to the grocery store and back? Research a report? Take a shower? Jensen had to plan every event of his life in advance. 

Jared did his best to adapt their house for Jensen. He was always "on the hunt" for esoteric things to simplify Jensen's life. A one handed can opener, letter opener, book page turner, and a multitude of funny looking clamps and gadgets to keep things stable while Jensen handled them with his one good hand. Lazy Susan's in all the cabinets, cupboards and closets, and retractable trays strategically placed throughout the house. 

Jensen, being relentlessly right-handed, had tremendous difficulty writing his legal signature legibly, so Jared had a signature stamp made with Jensen's best handwriting attempt to avert headaches and multiple tries. Jared's gift, two years ago, was a [one handed computer keyboard](http://tech.uk.msn.com/microsoft/photos.aspx?cp-documentid=158000312&page=3). _That_ was a godsend. 

Jared made his own special touches—literally. He'd fired a ceramic toothbrush holder so that Jensen could lay his toothbrush down and apply the toothpaste one handed without incident. Unless you call the giggling at the misshapen Jedi Light saber an incident.

It's true that the adaptations made Jensen's life a whole lot easier, but that wasn't the same thing as _easy_. Nothing is easy with one hand. Jensen knew that Jared never thought of him as anything _but_ a dedicated lefty. Jared never had to get used to Jensen being disabled. 

But Jensen did. 

Jensen couldn't tie shoes tightly, so it was either loafers or elastic shoelaces. He couldn't mop the floors or vacuum very well. Regrettably, Jensen couldn't crack an egg neatly to save his life, and he'd gone through many dozens of eggs to prove it. Now, the best he hoped for was scrambled without too many bits of shell. Until Jared, eggs 'over easy' were a thing of the past. 

Jensen finished chopping and added the onions to the crock pot, one handful at a time.

Jared walked into the kitchen with his arms full of graded papers, inhaling the scent of freshly chopped onions and garlic.

"Ooh, hungry," Jared said. 

"Working on it," Jensen said, waving the chopping knife in the air. "So far, we're having salad for dinner."

"What's cooking in there?" Jared tipped his chin toward the crock pot as he stacked his student's papers neatly before placing them into his backpack.

"You'll have to wait for this." Jensen pointed his knife at the pot. "I did some research into Egyptian cuisine and found a recipe for Ful Mudammas . It's red lentils and fava beans in garlic sauce. I started soaking the beans yesterday and it will slow cook until tomorrow. It keeps for days, and you can eat it for _breakfast_." Jensen made a face. "But then you'd have garlic breath for the rest of the morning. Maybe for the rest of the week." 

Jared gently looped his arms around Jensen's shoulders, turning his around. "I'm not really in the mood to have a conversation about popular Egyptian fare and the lingering olfactory consequences."

"I guess the thrill is gone, then." Jensen put the knife down. "You used to love my olfactory conversations."

"I'm in the mood for something else." Jared purred.

"What _are_ you in the mood for?" Jensen snuggled up against Jared's chest, sliding his hand around to rest on Jared's ass. "Thought you said you were hungry."

"I am hungry." Jared nuzzled down Jensen's neck, licking and sucking.

"Yeah, this is much better than fava beans." Jensen shivered and scraped his nails up and down Jared's back. 

"Now, don't start something you can't finish," Jared warned, playfully.

"When have I ever done that?" Jensen's hand cupped Jared's ass and squeezed.

"Never, and dear God, Jensen, that's one of the things I love about you." Jared maneuvered Jensen out of the kitchen. 

"What else do you love about me?" Jensen walked up on tip toes, nipping hard at Jared's ear.

"What _don't_ I love about you?'" Jared answered with a hard bite to Jensen's neck.

This pain, the one where Jared marked him, was the only pain Jensen got any enjoyment from.

Jensen hissed and dragged Jared down the hallway and into their bedroom. "You love everything about me," Jensen answered pulling off his own shirt. "You gave me this." He shook his ring-fingered left hand in Jared's face right before shoving off his sweat pants and boxers. "You want me to be yours in every way for all our lives." Jensen descended and, adeptly, undid the buttons and finally the fly to Jared's jeans. 

"Yes, yes I did," Jared panted. "I mean, yes, yes I do."

Jensen reached into Jared's unzipped pants and pulled out Jared's growing erection. Holding it proudly in his left hand and stroking it roughly, Jensen said, "You gave me this, too." Jensen opened his mouth and unceremoniously swallowed Jared down.

"Fuck, Jen. Warn a guy, will ya?" Jared groaned at the sensation of Jensen sucking relentlessly on Jared's filling cock.

Jensen shook his head and hummed, "Na ummm." Jensen held on to Jared's dick, using his lips and mouth and sturdy left hand. 

It was sloppy. Jensen's hand became soggy and wet. Jared pulled off abruptly, with a loud, wet slurp emitting from Jensen's lips. He kicked off his jeans and underwear and crawled back, proudly presenting his hard on to Jensen. 

Jensen smiled and grabbed it back into his mouth, continuing what he started. After Jared moaned for a few minutes, Jensen let go of Jared's cock, using suction only, in lieu of his hand, and took hold of Jared's wrist, aiming Jared's fingers into Jared's own mouth.

Jared stared for a moment, and then got with the program. Jared sucked his fingers until they, too, were wet and messy. He reached behind to finger himself open. 

Jensen released Jared's wrist and went back to abusing Jared's dick like it was an unfortunate prisoner of war. Jared groaned and squirmed as he prepped himself open. 

"Jesus, Jen." 

Jensen pulled on Jared's cock with his teeth, lips and tongue, creating a rough sensation on delicate skin, driving Jared wild. 

"Fuck, shit, fuck," Jared panted, while inserting four fingers of his own left hand. 

"Gonna make tonight a night to remember," Jensen's voice was low.

"Yeah? Okay, Jensen "The Jackal" Ackles." Jared hauled himself away and flopped, belly down onto the bed. He rose up on hands and knees, dropped his head and raised his ass. Jared turned his head, looked over his shoulder and leered. "Batter _up_."

Jensen reached into the drawer of the bedside table and grabbed the lube. He knee walked up to Jared's waiting ass. His right arm hanging uselessly by his side. Jensen poured slick all down Jared's crack and into Jared's waiting hole and then poured a generous amount on his own erect cock. He stroked his cock once for good measure, and then lined up to Jared's now slick hole. Jensen hung on to the base of his cock for dear life as Jared _pushed back_ onto Jensen's dick. Jensen held tight as Jared backed up and up, pressing against Jensen. Jensen was pushed relentlessly up the bed, coming to rest firmly on the headboard as Jensen slowly filled Jared's body. 

"Holy shit, Jared," Jensen said reverently.

Jared came to rest, flush up against Jensen's body and gave a shaky thumb's up. After a moment, Jared rocked forward and backward, setting a pace that Jensen heartily approved. Jensen rose higher on the headboard and bent his knees, positioning Jared in a modified reverse cowboy. 

Being disabled meant having to adapt, accommodate, and modify, and this position was a winner for them both. 

Jared's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned into the sensation of Jensen pushing up into him over and over. Then, using his powerful thighs, he rose up and slammed back down onto Jensen. 

"Yeah, Jay, yeah," 

Jensen held on to the headboard and bucked up as Jared pushed down. 

"Damn, Jensen, you are so _good_ at this," Jared praised, slamming down hard onto Jensen's wet, hard, dick.

Jared rocked back and Jensen reared up, until Jared took hold of his own straining cock.

"Wait, wait," Jensen chanted.

"Can't, can't," Jared crooned.

Jared rose up, stroked one, two, three, and came with thick, white ropes splashing onto the sheets, hitting Jensen's knees and toes. 

As Jared's entire body shook with the force of his orgasm, Jensen arched up, and, hissing Jared's name, shot off rocket hot, buried deep inside Jared. 

Jensen came down from his high with Jared gently lifted up and off. Jensen was gasping for breath when Jared slid off the edge of the bed and went into the adjoining bathroom. 

Jensen's eyes fluttered shut, opening when a warm cloth bathed his chest, hips, cock, thighs, and a little dab to his toes.

"That's my job, isn't it?" Jensen asked, sleepily.

"Not while I'm around." Jared dried all the water from Jensen's skin and carefully placed Jensen's right arm by his side. 

He went into the bathroom where the shower came to life for a couple of minutes…or hours…Jensen wasn't sure, and then Jared curled up next to him, naked under the covers. He was warm, sweet smelling, and comfy.

"What about dinner?" Jensen asked stroking up and down Jared's bare arm.

"It can wait."

"See if I make you salad again," Jensen kissed the top of Jared's head.

Soft, even breaths and the rhythmic ticking of the cuckoo clock were the only sounds in the bedroom. 

"Love you, Jen," Jared whispered. "Love you."

"God." Jensen swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "I'm going to miss you." He covered his face with his forearm. "Jesus, Jared, I'm going to miss you."

"I'm sorry, Jensen." Jared kissed his eyes. "I'm sorry for leaving you." Jared buried his head into Jensen's neck. Salty wet tears ran down Jensen's skin, soaking into the sheets. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave you behind. I'm so sorry." Jared kissed his hair, his neck, behind his ear. "I'm sorry."

"Jared," Jensen choked out. "Don't be sorry. This is who you are, don't ever apologize for that." 

Jensen took a breath and forced himself to calm. He looked Jared in the eye, the soft lighting making Jared's eyes shine. "You know I'll be here. I'll miss you, but I will wait for you to come home. Never doubt that."

"I don't doubt it," Jared said shakily. "I _will_ come home to you, Jen, as soon as I can, I swear."

"I know." Jensen sniffed. "That's why I can bear it when you go away."

"Sometimes, I think you can't be real."

"Sometimes, I'm not." Jensen was teasing, but, seriously, how could a real, live, human possibly say what he was about to say to the love of his life? 

"You need to go to Egypt. The world needs you to do what you do best. But, Jay, after the world is done with you, fly home. To me." 

~~*~~*~~

Dr. Farida Kamel worked for the Egyptian government's Head of Antiquities, and was the coordinator for Jared's project. She was an accredited archeologist and archivist for the ministry of state for Egyptian antiquities, and this entire dig was under her auspices. Farida Kamel ran this project with an iron fist. 

There have long been attempts to create a chair for Egyptian Antiquities at Cairo University and, with Jared's help, the support given by the United States, and the overwhelmingly motivated Egyptian government to unify the country, this collaboration was finally a done deal. 

The whole world was in awe of Egypt's history, and Egypt, itself, was extremely proud of its place in the history of the world. Jared's dreams of cracking open the veil of time between then and now was upon him, and every _day_ held new challenges, new discoveries, and a new bookmark for the entire Earth.

As soon as Dr. Kamel gave her permission.

~~*~~*~~

The coarse, hot sand stuck to Jared's sweaty fingers. The sun was relentless, beating on his head and neck through the protective cover of the white scarf, the kufiya, rolled around his head held in place by a black braided agal.

A stiff breeze swirled around him, and Jared brought the scarf up around his face to cover his mouth. He smiled to himself, because two nights ago, when he had Jensen on Skype Jared posed in front of the web cam in full Bedouin robed attire. Jensen had remarked that it wasn't fair. That instead of Indiana Jones, he was marrying Lawrence of Arabia.

Jared then went into his rendition of [I Feel Pretty](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwKcDnEPJfY), his robes blossoming around him as he danced around the room. 

The wind picked up, hurling needle-sharp sand crystals into the unprotected skin of his hands and face. He finished labeling the last two of the four pottery canopic jars. The ones with wooden heads carved to look like a falcon and a jackal. Historically, these jars were filled with the viscera of the owner of the tomb so that he would have them available in the afterlife. 

Very cool.

Handing off the jars to two of his assistants, Jared descended into the recently excavated burial chamber and out of the blowing wind. In the center of the chamber was a large granite sarcophagus which was basically a big rectangular stone tomb. A sculpture of an alert jackal was fabricated out of pottery and adorned the top. This jackal was probably a reference to Anubis, the jackal-headed god who was the patron of embalmers and protector of cemeteries. The lid of the sarcophagus had been removed to expose the single brightly painted coffin inside.

The team of Egyptian and American archeologists had yet to identify him, but obvious care had been taken to honor the man interred here. Jared had already chronicled and cataloged the paintings on the walls and had started inventorying and tagging the possessions the dearly departed wanted with him in his next life. 

Not all of the artifacts were readily identifiable; however, some of the deceased's possessions were obvious. One was the carefully mummified remains of a small dog. Another object was reminiscent of a musical instrument. There appeared to be a sound box and fingerboard, where, at the neck, pieces of carved jade looked like violin string pegs. Although after all these centuries, any catgut strings there may have been had long since deteriorated. 

Jared walked to the right side of the large granite block. Another favored object lay on the floor by the coffin outside of the sarcophagus. It was a baton of some kind. Wider, more bulbous at the top, narrowing to a tapered end. Apparently, the interred wanted some kind of staff or club handy when he awoke. A misshapen sphere made from stitched animal hide lay next to it.

The last puzzling discovery was a set of small jars placed to the immediate left-hand side of the coffin, _within_ the sarcophagus. Jared had never seen that before. All the important items were usually outside the sarcophagi, but these items were close to the man himself, so that upon waking, he would have immediate access to what was inside the little containers. 

He caught his breath as a deep, overwhelming sadness hit him. This dead man in the ornate crypt had been optimistically waiting for thousands of years, hoping—expecting—to awaken in an afterlife with the things he loved nearby.

He was alone, he had no relatives buried with him. Alone with only his dog, his guitar, his softball and bat, and his pills, in case he needed them. He was lying there, all alone, far away, and waiting. And he was dead when Jared found him.

Jared looked at the brightly painted face on the coffin. The eyes of the mask were painted open, and, of course, they were a bright green. The face was frozen in Jensen's beloved lopsided smirk. 

"Jay?" Jared felt careful fingers brushing his cheeks. "Hey, man, wake up."

Jared lowered his head until it rested against Jensen's chest. Hot tears dripped down his face, pooling on the soft hairs under his cheek.

"What's wrong?" Jensen asked, stroking his hand through Jared's hair. "Bad dream?"

Jared nodded against Jensen's skin. 

Want to tell me?" Jensen's voice was soft and gentle. His fingers scratched lightly against Jared's scalp.

"I can't right now." He took a shaking breath and said, "I've got some things to think about." That was the most honest he could be at that moment.

"That's okay, I can wait." Jensen rubbed Jared's back and came up to brush through his hair again. "If you need me, I'll be right here." 

He kissed the top of Jared's head as Jared's heart broke.

~~*~~*~~

Jensen was an on again-off again sleeper. Every night was some variation of the half asleep, wide awake, deep asleep, half awake, cycle. It had been that way for years, so it didn't bother him that Jared woke him up last night. In fact, after Jared began snoring softly against him, Jensen fell very soundly into the land of Nod, returning only when the sound of pots and pans crashing to the tiled kitchen floor made it impossible to stay asleep.

Jared had had an emotional dream last night, but didn't tell Jensen what it was about. That wasn't unusual. Sometimes Jared did and sometimes he didn't. 

Jensen pushed himself up and grabbed his fluffy white bathrobe from the back of the door, slung it on, tucked his right hand down into the deep pocket and headed for the kitchen.

Jared wore flip flops, a pair of red boxer briefs and nothing else. He was kneeling on the floor tiles, retrieving a skillet and lid when Jensen entered the kitchen.

"Mornin', sunshine," Jensen drawled. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"I've got something to say." Jared chased the lid under the table and snagged it by the handle.

"Okay." Jensen yawned and scratched his chest. "You making coffee anytime soon?"

"Yes to coffee, and you're making it. After coffee, I'm going to talk and you're going to listen."

"And this is different from every other morning, how?"

Jared glared and stood.

"Okay, okay." Jensen eyed the coffee maker. "Do we have vanilla hazelnut beans?"

"Yes to vanilla hazelnut," Jared pointed to the cabinet over the stove. "But I mean it. I'm talking and I'm not kidding."

Jensen ambled to the cabinet housing the coffee beans.

"I'm also making eggs for breakfast." Jared assembled skillet and lid and placed them on the front burner. "With Ful Mudammas on the side."

"Great," Jensen smiled. "I'd like my eggs over easy, and until you hand your boarding pass to the flight attendant, I'd like them as often as possible, please."

"Jen?"

"Mmm hmm?" Jensen replied, measuring out the proper volume of water for a full coffee flask.

"I know how much you hurt when we flew to Dallas. You probably knew it would, but you wanted to try, to see if you could fly around the world. I hoped you could. I hoped, with your RSD pain abating, that you could make the trip to Cairo at least once. I let you fly under the guise of meeting your parents. Don't get me wrong. I mean, I wanted to meet your parents, and I really thought they'd want to meet me, too, but in my heart, in my gut, I knew you probably couldn't, but I made you try."

"Jay, it's kind of early, and I'm still half asleep..."

"Okay, the truth is, it was a lie," Jared said, shushing him. "We both knew you probably couldn't fly. You told me it would be okay to leave you because I owed it to every kid who ever had a dream. A year is a year, you said. I wanted to believe you because I wanted to fly away to Egypt, conduct the dig, and make my mark. I pretended that it wasn't a lie, even though I knew it was a lie, so that I could go."

Jensen caught a glimmer of what was going on. 

"Hey, it's okay. Really," Jensen said. "It's _not_ your fault, and it's not your lie. I'm more to blame than you are, because I knew, in all likelihood, that I wouldn't be able to handle the flight."

Jared shook his head and grasped Jensen's hand "But now I don't want to. You were right. A year _is_ a year. My God, Jensen. A year is a whole fucking _year_ , and it's not worth it. It's _not_. You've done so well, you're _doing_ so well. You make it look easy. So easy that I forget."

Jensen smiled gently, "Like the hang tag on my rear view mirror doesn't remind you."

"Jensen, we said we wouldn't ignore it. We would deal with it and not ignore your disability."

"We don't need to deal with my disability. Not anymore. I've accepted it and made peace with it. I know who I am now and how I'm supposed to be. It shouldn't define you or what you do with your life. You need to do what you're supposed to do." Jensen gentled his voice. "You need to be who you're supposed to be."

"No, we need to be who we are supposed to be. You do define me. Or rather, we define me." Jared closed his eyes and took a breath. "We define us."

"So, now you're saying that me and my right arm define you?" Jensen's eyes twinkled.

"Yes. No. Yes." Jared stopped. "No, but your disability _affects_ me, and I can't ignore it. I don't want to ignore it. _You_ don't have a choice. You can't ever ignore it."

"Why are we talking in circles here? I've had only one working arm for over six years now. I'm over all the stages of grief and into acceptance. You were way ahead of me. You accepted my disability from the jump. It just took me longer to catch up to you."

"About what?"

"About the fact that, yes, there are some things that are difficult for me to do, some things I can't do, and some things I will never be able to do again. But, there's a lot I can do. As you said, the disability didn’t diminish me, it changed me. A hard change—one that I would never have chosen, but it's just a change. And look what I got in return." He raised his left arm expansively, first showing off his silver ring, and then encompassing all the adaptations in the kitchen. 

Jared raised his eyebrows and waited.

"Okay, having you and a working right arm would be best but, still, these left sided knobs are a distant second. This," Jensen nodded to his pocketed hand. "…should not keep you from going to Egypt."

"It's not, and I'm not going," Jared said. 

"Jay," Jensen sighed. "You've got to go."

"I _don't_ have to go, so I'm not." Jared gave a half hearted grin. "I made the short list for this expedition, but my name wasn't the only one on it."

Jared came up to Jensen and briefly ran his fingertips across his cheek. "What if a year is all we have? What if there _aren't_ plenty more where that came from? You know, Jen, sometimes a year isn't just a year. 2001 wasn't just a year."

"Being in Egypt isn't going to change that," Jensen said, gently. "What's going to happen is going to happen. Your being gone isn't going to change who lives or who dies. That's mystical thinking."

"I know, but if something happens to someone, like, god forbid, if somebody dies without me being here, it will change _me_ for the rest of my life."

"You can't live in fear of what _could_ happen." Jensen softened his voice. "Anything could happen at any time. You can't change the course of your life because something might happen when you're away." Jensen looked him in the eye. "I could die crossing the street tomorrow."

"I know that," Jared said with a sad smile. "And I want to be with you when you step off the curb."

"Jay, you need to realize…"

"Besides, it's not all about dying here. Megan's having a baby. A _baby_. How can I be the doting uncle if I'm not even here?"

"I don't think an infant would remember you not being here for the first few months of its life."

"Sure they would. Padalecki kids are smart." 

"Your work is your life." 

"It's not like I'm giving it up. The simple fact is—a year is too long to be away." Jared stopped and said, slowly, "A year is too long."

Jensen didn't want to agree with him and he didn't want to disagree, so he stared silently. "I don't want you to go against your nature. I don't want to tie you down."

Jared shrugged. "Maybe the hawk doesn't need to fly so far anymore. Maybe I'm happier flying closer to home."

"So, not giving it up, then?"

"Nope, not yet. In fact, I'm already planning Jared's Next Big Adventure. There are a couple of digs in Alaska I've wanted to get teams together for. You know, like dad said," Jared beamed his hundred watt smile. "See America first."

"Are you sure this is what you want? Is this what you really want?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. I don't know if I'll regret passing up this opportunity. But one thing I won't regret is you."

"How do you know? How can you know that, years from now, you won't resent me because someone else became the first archeologist/researcher/professor/ambassador to win a Nobel Prize?"

"Wow, you make me sound pretty smart." 

"Well, you are."

"Well, then, give me some credit. I am a man of science and mathematics, and as such I will itemize my reasons for you:  
"One, no project, no matter how big, no matter how prominent, no matter how significant, is more important than my family, because when you have a family, you love them more than anything. And I do."

Jared stood back and smiled.

"And two?" Jensen asked.

"That's it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it." Jared dropped his voice. "I don't want to be gone that long. I'll lose more than I'll gain. I know it."

"You're absolutely sure?"

"It's never been about the destination, anyway. It's always been about the journey."

"What?" Jensen smiled. "What are you talking about?"

"The journey. Our journey, Jen. The one _we're_ taking together." Jared took Jensen's hand, and kissed the palm. "Even if our two directions aren't always the same, we have to be _together_ to take the journey." 

"I guess you're right."

"Damn straight, I'm right."

Just like that. It was done. Like it was the easiest thing in the world for Jared to do. 

"So, I'm making breakfast. You still want eggs?" Jared turned, put the heat up under the skillet and reached for the olive oil.

"Jared? You…" Jensen couldn't continue. It was too big. It was too profound.

"It's okay, Jen. This really is what I want. How about you?"

Jensen nodded, blinking the moisture from his eyes, and then croaked out, "Over easy?" 

"You got it." Jared winked.

"Just when I think my life is perfect the way it is," Jensen whispered. " _More_ perfect happens. How did I get so lucky?" 

"Well, we're about to see, aren't we." Jared smiled as he glanced at the silver ring on his right hand. 

"Perfecter and perfecter," Jensen agreed.

~~*~~*~~  
Epilogue  
~~*~~*~~  
 _Three Years Later_  
~~*~~*~~  
 **Art and Inspiration Magazine**  
What's Hot in Today's Art World—An Interview with Jared Padalecki 

_Story by Saffron Millington_

Inspired by ancient and contemporary Inuit and Aleut art, Dr. Jared Padalecki, archeologist, and now pottery artist and master ceramicist, blasted onto the art scene three years ago, beguiling audiences, critics and investors alike. After conducting two consecutive archeological digs in the Kodiak Archipelago, and in the northern Alaska region, Dr. Padalecki was profoundly inspired by artwork of the Inuit and Aleut cultures.

Dr. Padalecki, whose ceramic works are now on display at the [Whitney Museum of American Art](http://www.visual-arts-cork.com/museums/whitney-museum-of-american-art.htm) and the [Philadelphia Museum of Art](http://www.visual-arts-cork.com/museums/philadelphia-museum-of-art.htm), is opening his own gallery in a combination open house/birthday gala, planned for June fifteenth of next year. Padalecki's three year old niece, Julianna Watson, will be sharing the spotlight for this event at Padalecki's "Abracadabra! Art" studio. 

**_A &I_**: Dr. Padalecki, what exactly inspired you to change career paths from the sciences to the arts?

**_Padalecki_** : "I was drawn to archeology by the thrill of the mystery, the wonder of the unknown, and the timeless quality the relics represented. But, if I'm really truthful, Saffron, I've _always_ been an artist at heart. With both art and archeology, I am captivated by cultures where mythical creatures and magnificent beings inhabit the lives of every day people. It's as if they're living with magic and miracles all around them. I know how wonderful it is, living with magic and miracles. 

"My husband says that I'm a relentlessly mystical thinker, and he's always right. Sharing these feelings of awe and wonder through expressions of art is pure pleasure. I'm on a marvelous, timeless journey of creativity and discovery with an amazing man, the love of my life, by my side.

"It is very cool to be me right now."

_Dr. Padalecki tells us that a portion of all proceeds from his art sales goes to the St. Francis of Assisi No Kill Animal Shelter in memory of Harley Padalecki who went to the[Rainbow Bridge](http://rainbowsbridge.com/Poem.htm) two and a half years ago. This shelter was Harley's temporary home before finding his forever home with his two daddies and sister, Sadie, who miss him very much._  
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

**Entrepreneur Magazine  
News:**

Jensen Padalecki, president and owner of _Padalecki's Green Designs_ , a successful and innovative architectural landscaping firm, and Christian Kane, owner of _The Green Grower Gardening Supplies and Nursery_ , have signed a deal, merging the two businesses and forming a new corporation. The newly named, _The Green Works, Inc_., will be moving to a new location and expanding their floor space to accommodate both endeavors. 

_The Green Works'_ owners are both proud supporters of their local softball team, The Green Hornets, not only financially, but with their time and talent. 

Besides being a successful landscape architect, Jensen Padalecki works with state officials on legislation designed to help the disabled start up and run their own businesses. He is also involved with the [National Council on Disability](http://www.ncd.gov/) working, on a national level, to promote policies and procedures that guarantee equal opportunity for individuals with disabilities. Mr. Padalecki permanently lost the use of his right hand and arm several years ago.

Padalecki states, "This is a dream come true for me, co-owning this business with my oldest friend, Chris and working to help other disabled people fulfill their dream of business ownership.

"My husband, Jared, with whom I am deeply in the _middle_ of a beautiful friendship, has always encouraged me to pursue my ambitions despite my disability. Not every disabled person has my great fortune of being loved and supported so unconditionally. Jared has always helped me, and believed in me, and I in him. We both agree that we couldn't have done it without us."

"Jared was right, as he always is, about what's important. Even though our paths twist and turn around each other, we are on the very same journey.

"So on we go down this road of life together." 

And all because Jensen accidentally signed up for ceramics instead of cartooning.

~~*~~*~~fin~~*~~*~~

With apologies to Donna and Alan Ackles

This is the original prompt by [roque clasique](http://roque-clasique.livejournal.com/) that started this series: 

_Jensen thought he was signing up for cartooning, but accidentally signed up for ceramics, a class that's pretty damn tough when you've only got one working arm. It's worth it to suffer through it, though, because damn the shaggy-haired wheel-throwing teacher is fine..._  
Thank you, roque.

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/tcs1121/pic/0000sfac/)

  


  


[Egyptian Coffin](http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/3231/Coffin_and_Mummy_Board_of_Pasebakhaemipet/image/16723/image)

  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/tcs1121/pic/0000py15/)

  


  


[Canopic Jars](http://media.hcpss.org/newcode/ekits/ekits.php?eKitID=173)

  


 

Falcon, Jackal, Baboon, Human

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/tcs1121/pic/0000h2sw/)

  


[Inuit Art](http://www.inuit.com/page193.htm)

  


  


[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/tcs1121/pic/0000g36r/)

  


[Aleut Art](http://www.apiai.com/products.asp?page=products)

  


**Author's Note:**

> [ Photo credit for the title picture](http://www.nilevalleytours.com/page/places-to-visit/sites-of-cairo/pyramids-of-giza)  
> [ Jensen and Jared's silver ring](http://weddingjewelrywebstore.blogspot.com/2011/04/6mm-flat-satin-benchmark-titanium-ring.html)  
> [ Chevy Tahoe](http://www.chevrolet.com/tahoe-mid-size-suv/)  
> [ Sugarloaf Ski Resort](http://www.sugarloaf.com/index.html)  
> [stellate ganglion block](http://www.medcentral.org/main/StellateGanglionBlock.aspx)  
> [ Tempromandibular joint disorder](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Temporomandibular_joint_disorder)  
> [ Jensen's silver striped silk vest](http://www.vestsbycharlotte.com/silver-striped-silk-vest-p-73.html)  
> [ Jensen's string tie](http://www.sheplers.com/western-double-string-tie.html%20)  
> [ Dycem non slip solutions ](http://www.dycem-ns.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [ Signature stamps](http://www.simplystamps.com/Signature_Stamp-list.aspx)  
> [ Ful Mudammas recipe ](http://www.cliffordawright.com/caw/recipes/display/recipe_id/745/)  
> [ Jared's kufiya](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keffiyeh)  
> [ Jared's agal](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agal_\(accessory\))  
> [ Canopic jars ](http://media.hcpss.org/newcode/ekits/ekits.php?eKitID=173)
> 
>  
> 
> credit to the Howard County Public School System, Maryland. These jars are on display at the [ British Museum ](http://www.britishmuseum.org/)  
> [Brooklyn Museum, picture of Mummy Coffin](http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/3231/Coffin_and_Mummy_Board_of_Pasebakhaemipet/image/16723/image)  
> [ Egyptian Afterlife with Alert Jackal](http://www.crystalinks.com/egyptafterlife.html)  
> [ Ministry of State For Antiquities](http://www.sca-egypt.org/eng/main.htm)
> 
> ~~*~~*~~  
> A Collector's Edition .pdf of all four stories in the _Twists and Turns 'Verse_ can be downloaded [HERE on Mediafire](http://www.mediafire.com/?c2hbnuepmbujxol).
> 
> A huge thanks to all the readers who enjoyed this universe. I couldn't have done it without you!


End file.
